More Than an Enemy
by ML Miller Breedlove
Summary: Complete! In answer to the Flattery Challenge. An alternative view of events by permission of L Groundwater that occurred in her story Once Upon A Time: Papa Bear Chapter 13 revised.
1. Default Chapter

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

The Flattery Challenge:  
You're challenge is to take your favorite fic and, with permission from the author, write a new fic inspired by that one. Perhaps it's a sequel, a "what happened next" story. Perhaps a missing  
scene, like an episode addition. Perhaps it a totally new fic based on the old one. Whatever it is use that fic as a jumping off point for something new!

My thank you to L J Groundwater for her permission to expand on her story

"Once Upon A Time: Papa Bear"

and present the same events as they occurred to the Axis fighter pilot,

Oberst Biedenbender.

In answer to the Flattery Challenge I offer:

More Than an Enemy

By ML Breedlove

Chapter One

For Love of Country

Heinrich Biedenbender closed the door behind him and slammed his cap onto his head. _How do they expect me to know what the Americans are planning? _His face was red hot with anger and embarrassment. _Shouldn't the Fuhrer's astrologer have told us what the Americans were planning? _Such treacherous thought was quickly abandoned, as he barreled down the hall trying to put some distance between himself and the High Command.The American daylight-bombing raid had rained havoc over Leipzig, and Biedenbender had just been accused of inefficiency in allowing it to occur.

_Calm down! _He concentrated on slowing his breathing, as he thought back to the previous day. He grimaced at the memory and chastised himself for being off base that fateful morning. The German Oberst had been back from his own nightly skirmish with the enemy for only a few hours, and was in town with his wing-man celebrating attaining another record kill, and earning yet another medal, when the air raid sirens sounded. The Allied bombers had already dropped their bombs and turned for home by the time he made it back to base.

_I knew better! Celebrating a victory before it is official is bad luck! And now, the American pilot may have just negated that victory for me with his daylight bombing. _Biedenbender shook his head and laughed sarcastically at himself. _He may have negated my whole career…maybe even my whole **life**! _He slammed his right fist into his left palm. It was not the target he wanted but it would have to do…for now.

"Heinrich! Over here!" A voice called out as Biedenbender exited the building. Major Rolf Schinner, Biedenbender's wingman and friend, was anxiously waiting to hear what had happened. Rolf could see by the look on Biedenbender's face that it had not gone well.

If Rolf was anything, he was loyal to his friend. They had flown together since they were Lieutenants. Currently Oberst Biedenbender held the title of Geschwaderkommodore, and was a Jagdgeschwader commander with all the power and authority that went with it. But Biedenbender's authority had not changed how he treated Rolf. They were closer than brothers, and the privileges of a higher rank would _never_ be pulled on Rolf. Guarding each other in the sky forged a bond that knew no rank.

As a Kommodore, Biedenbender's Geschwader was comprised of three Gruppen of 36 planes. The three Gruppen of a Geschwader operated together from adjacent airfields with one Gruppen per airfield. All totaled, Kommodore Biedenbender had one hundred and eight planes under his command.

"Was it as bad as you thought it would be?" Rolf asked, already knowing the answer.

Biedenbender's eyes took on a faraway look as a vision of the Allied commander's plane flew into his thoughts, "I'm going to stop him, Rolf! If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to bring him down!"

Biedenbender yanked his eyes away and looked down the street. He didn't like Rolf seeing him this angry, and he didn't like having to stand in front of the Heads of the German Luftwaffe in defeat. The fact that this daylight raid, led by the American Oberst, was a first for the Americans and a complete surprise to the Luftwaffe, held no weight for the High Command. The plain truth was, the American led his squadron over airspace guarded by Biedenbender's Geschwader, penetrated the Kommodore's defenses, dropped their three tons of bombs, and made it back to England with only minimal losses. This sort of failure would bring repercussions. Oberst Biedenbender knew he had to redeem himself, and quickly.

The German Oberst had already targeted the American for defeat prior to this last intrusion into German air space. Biedenbender came from common lineage. There was no aristocracy in his family, just salt of the earth, hard working, loyal German citizens. Because of his background, he would make a point of driving through the countryside, following an air raid, to see the pain of the German people as they tried to cope with the destruction and maintain some order in their lives. It gave him the justification he needed to kill. The men he shot down deserved to die. It was retribution, an eye for an eye. And the American commander had come to epitomize the calloused Allies, and their dealings of indiscriminate carnage. Biedenbender vowed to lessen these attacks on the good people of Germany, by eliminating at least this one, flying menace. To this end, he had been studying Commander Hogan's attack plans, formations, target approach, defensive maneuvers, departure from target, and abilities to keep a heavily damaged B-17 flying when the only thing holding it together was pure dogged determination. Biedenbender would not be caught off guard again. The next time he met his adversary he would bring enough firepower to bear on him that the hand of God Himself would not be able to keep Commander Hogan in the air.

"Let's get back to base. We're going to go over all of the information I have on this American menace. That devil needs to learn the consequences of dropping bombs on the Fatherland, and I'm going to be the one to teach it to him."

"You want to include me in that, too? After all, you're not in this alone." Rolf reminded.

Biedenbender quickly turned to look at his friend and smiled, "I'm sorry, Rolf, of course you're included, you and the other hundred and seven pilots. Together we will put an end to this American commander." Biedenbender wrapped his arm over Rolf's shoulder and they made their way to the train station.

Biedenbender leaned back in his seat as the train jerked to a start. Like his American counterpart, Biedenbender was an expert pilot, and had been awarded the Iron Cross, second and first Class, the Honor Cup, the German Cross in Gold, and with his forty-fifth kill newly under his wing, he had been anticipating the award of the Knight's Cross. His medals were hard won and were awarded on a point system. Scoring of points was on the basis of "One pilot – one victory." A fighter pilot, to win points, must separate an Allied bomber from its formation for the kill. This was a more difficult task then the mere final destruction of a damaged straggler. And there must be a wingman, squadron mate, or a ground observer who witnessed the kill. The Luftwaffe rule was "no witness – no victory credit".

KommodoreBiedenbender closed his eyes to dream of yet another victory. _I am not without skill, Commander Hogan, as you will soon learn. We have fought before and each time I've learned a little more about you. You're good, I'll give you that, but you're not unbeatable. I thought I had you twice previously but I couldn't cut you out of formation. Although just you being brought down might be enough to appease the High Command and put me back in good standing, it wouldn't be enough for me! I will cut you out of your formation, Colonel Hogan, and I will cash in fully on your demise._

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Biedenbender had barely closed the door on the officers of the High Command, when the Reichsminister der Luftfahrt, Herman Goering, looked around at the assembly. He Grasped the podium with both hands, and took in a deep breath, as perspiration popped out on his brow. Leaning toward the faces watching him, he began, "I do not have to tell you of the Fuhrer's displeasure over this latest incident." The force of these words was deafening, but not as deafening as the brief silence that followed. "It is a slap in the face to German Superiority and it must _not_ be allowed to continue!" Goering paused again and looked around at the Chiefs of the General, and Operations Staff, as well as, the Directors of Signals, and Training and Intelligence that were gathered before him. "Another failed encounter, such as we just discussed with Oberst Biedenbender must not…" _Bam_! Goering's fist hit the podium and a sudden echo reverberated through the room, "…_will not…_happen."

The German forward echelon, code-named Robinson, had been following the exploits of this American Commander. This sought after Allied flyer was originally identified by the number on his plane, but his exploits demanded a name. And so, military and civilian history was collected on this American commander of the 504th Bomb Squadron. Soon the name of Colonel Robert Edward Hogan was being bantered around the inner circles of the Oberkommando der Luftwaffe (OKL), which was the formal name for the forward and rear echelons of the High Command. The Allied commander had earned himself a spot on the Luftwaffe's "Most Wanted' list, as well as the Fuhrer's attention.

Prior to the daylight raid, Adolph Hitler had ordered that the American Commander be "…brought down. Alive if possible, but brought _down_!" This latest escapade, during broad daylight had raised the price on the American's head. Goering continued,

"The German pilot that puts an end to this Allied flyer's bombing career will be decorated by the Fuhrer himself." Goering paused to give emphasis to this important statement. "The Fuhrer grows weary of this American." Goering looked warningly at the men before him and continued, "It will be in everybody's best interest if this ends _soon_!" The Reichsminister turned and marched toward the door, as his last word hung in everybodies mind. _Soon, _they all knew, was not_ soon _enough

The officers of the High Command squirmed in their seats. There was no doubt about what was expected. Many ultimatums would be handed down through the German ranks today. Ultimatums designed to fulfill the Fuhrer's decree, and to not only bring honor to the pilot who succeeded, but to defend Germany's claim of Superiority.


	2. Chapter Two Not for Glory Alone

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Two

Not For Glory Alone

"Do you have any additional questions?" Kommodore Biedenbender shifted his weight and crossed his arms as he waited for a response from his three junior officers.

Hauptmann Losigkeit shook his head negatively, "Nein Kommodore!"

Oberleutnant Stolte was next to answer. Straightening, he pulled his shoulders back, clicked his heels, and proudly proclaimed, "We will celebrate their defeat in the skies over the Fatherland, Herr Oberst!"

Biedenbender smiled at the youthful jubilance and nodded his agreement, before looking at his third and last Staffelkapitan. "And you, Ehlers, do you agree with Stolte?"

Oberleutnant Ehlers shook his head negatively and frowned.

Biedenbender narrowed his eyes, and turned to face the Oberleutnant. "Let me hear where you feel we are wrong."

Ehlers clenched his jaw to prevent his facial expressions from giving him away and very seriously began his answer, "Herr Kommodore, Oberleutnant Stolte is young and cannot be expected to understand the full scope of what is about to happen." The muscles in Ehlers's face flexed as he fought to remain in control. "We will not celebrate the defeat of the Allied pilots in the skies over the Fatherland."

Stolte turned and looked at his comrade, hurt at the suggestion that his youth negatively influenced his perceptions

"No, Herr Oberleutnant?" Biedenbender's eyes widened as he tilted his head waiting for more from his Staffelkapitan.

Ehlers could no longer hide his true feelings and his face broke into a broad grin as he slapped Stolte on the back. "We will celebrate their defeat in their death spirals, as their planes plummet in a race to bury themselves in German soil and warm the land with their blood!"

Stolte took a step forward to prevent the energy from the slap on his back from propelling him into the Kommodore.

Hearty laughter rang out in the room as the tension was relieved. Biedenbender nodded approvingly. This was just one more affirmation that the men he had chosen to lead his Staffeln were the right men for the job. It was a delicate balance of serious experience, proud dedication, and an ability to think quickly under fire that put them in charge of the twelve planes under each of their commands.

Smiling, Stolte offered Ehlers a challenge, "I will wager that I finish with my Allied bombers in time to assistance you with yours!"

Biedendbender had divided up the remainder of the Allied stack of bombers among his three Staffeln. But the lead Allied bomber belonged to him and his Stabsschwarm. Commander Hogan's bomber had only been identified in one night raid in the last three days. Perhaps his absence from the Allies' nightly raids was merely a reward for the success of a one-time daylight raid, but Kommodore Biedenbender was betting it meant more. He suspected the Allies were saving Commander Hogan and his squadron for another daylight attack.

Biedenbender's laughter quieted as he took control of the room. "Gentlemen, I suggest you finish this later. Right now, I must meet with my Gruppenkommandeures. They are continuing to guard the night skies without our support. And you must meet with the three Schwarm of each of your Staffeln and brief them on our attack plans. Be ready at all times," he warned. "I do not know _when_ they will come again, but they _will come_." Biedenbender looked on the men with pride. "You are the best of the Luftwaffe's fighters. Together we will defend the skies of the Fatherland and send a message to the Allies that these daylight bombings cannot succeed!"

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The Allied bombers approach was called in by first one observer and then another. By the time the third observer had called to report the Allied bombers' coordinates, the Gefechtsstand had ordered the alert. The sirens had not yet finished their last echo across the airfield, when Kommodore Biendenbender and his Stabsschwarm, along with the three Staffeln led by Ehlers, Stolte and Losigkeit, were firing up their engines. The final checks were run and there was nothing to do now but wait for the signal to begin takeoff. Biedenbender would command his Stabsschwarm and his three Staffelkapitan's in the attack on the Allied Squadron. The four planes of Biedenbender's Stabsschwarm would target the Allied leader's plane. The other three Staffeln would attack the remaining bombers. Biedenbender flexed his hands in anticipation. He would soon know if his target was the much sought after Commander Hogan.

The signal for take-off was finally given and Biedenbender manipulated the controls putting his flaps at twenty degrees. He checked the fuel while his crew chief cranked the starter. The cylinders coughed, belched smoke and then caught smoothly as he stomped on the brakes and gunned the engine. Opening the throttle quickly to reduce the tendency to swing, he released the brackes and his 109 shot forward quickly accelerating to 160km/hour. His winged lady remained steady. Biedenbender's fingers tightened around the vibrating throttle, holding it hard forward to get the tail up. _Easy does it, don't pull her off too soon, that left wing won't lift if you're too quick. Just let her fly herself off the runway. That's it. _Biedenbender smiled as his Messerschmitt gracefully lifted off and made her initial climb. Banking to the left he watched the ground disappear below him, retracted his landing gear, and checked his gauges, guns and gun sight. Everything was in order. He settled to the work at hand.

_If it is Hogan's squadron coming in over the __North Sea__, and he remains on his same course, he'll pass over __Bremerhaven__. There is nothing there worth bombing…if they know that! The closest target would be…__Hamburg__…the ball bearing plant. Yes…the ball bearing plant!_

Biedenbender looked out to his right and saw his three Staffeln climbing to join the formation. He gave Rolf a thumbs up and with the sun overhead, they turned for Bremerhaven. Soon the initial chatter of acknowledgment died down and there was only the drone of the engines to be heard as each man focused his energies on what was to come.

Rolf was the first to break the silence. "There they are!"

Biedenbender's eyes rested on the lead bomber. "Stay with me, Rolf, let's go have a look!"

The two fighters burst out ahead of the group and took a close fly-by swipe at… "Goldilocks!" Biedenbender cried out with satisfaction. "It's him! It's the devil himself!"

The other two fighters of Biedenbender's Stabsschwarm followed closely behind coming in on their enemy at two o'clock. Goldilocks fired her guns in defense as the two Focke –Wulf's sprayed her fuselage.

The four fighters pulled up and to the right making their swing for their next approach as the three Staffelkapitans led the attacks on the other Allied bombers. Before Biedenbender and his Stabscsschwarm had completed their circle the Ack Ack guns began firing, filling the sky with flak whose glow lay hidden in the afternoon sunlight, and were surrounded by black puffs of smoke.

Some of the Allied planes broke out of their stacks as a countermeasure against the onslaught of fighters and flak. "Good job men, you're stirring them up!" Biedenbender shouted through the airwaves. He turned his attention back to Goldilocks. _Now Colonel Hogan, let's see if we can shake you out of your grouping!_

Biedenbender brought the nose of his Messerschmitt in line with Hogan's B-17 and began a head-on run with his cannon pounding, while Rolf came up from below the Flying Fortress all guns blazing. Major Weber in his Focke –Wulf came in on Goldilocks left flank spraying bullets, pulling up and over the huge plane at the last instant. Weber rolled his plane up as he passed and banked right. Weber's wingman, Hauptman Beise, followed close behind, laying down a blanket of bullets across the B-17's side guns. The lack of return fire surprised him.

Goldilocks's guns chocked off after a short burst eliciting a self satisfied laughed from Beise. "The Americans are having trouble with their guns! Their right waist gun is dead!" he announced.

The four German fighters pealed off and swooped back around to hit the B-17 at its newly discovered weak point. But, as they made their approach, the giant _bird_ arched around showing its tail.

Biedenbender smiled to himself. _So you're turning tail and running Colonel Hogan. Maybe I've given you too much credit… _Biedenbender suddenly realized what Hogan's maneuver was meant to accomplish and he pulled up just in time to shoot up over the barrage of bullets coming at him from Goldilocks's tail. A bead of perspiration ran down his temple as he leveled out of his roll. "Clever, Colonel, very clever!"

Goldilocks had readjusted her flight path by the time Biedenbender brought his two Rotte of four planes back around to bear on their target. All four planes blasted across the fuselage on the right side of the B-17 and Goldilocks lurched to the left, shuddering.

The German pilots shouted and whooped at the effect of their hits. "Gave 'em a good one there!" Biedenbender bellowed out as he came around for yet another pass, but his joy was short lived when he saw the bombs dropping out of the great bird like eggs as they went streaming down to their target. Still out of range, all he could do was watch. The sight filled him with anger and be began his attack anew, filled with an increased passion.

Biedenbender took stock of the Allied formation. There were holes in what would have been three tight stacks of six planes. Weber and Beise brought their Focke-Wulfs down and closed in on the lead B-17 once more, waiting until the last minute to drop their nose and shoot under the belly of the plane. The B-17's number one engine was hit by flak and exploded in flames. A chunk of engine narrowly missed Weber, leaving a scorch mark in its wake.

Biedenbender took advantage of the moment and peppered the rear left flank of the badly listing plane. Rolf made his approach at the three o'clock position. Biedenbender could feel the struggle that had to be going on inside the Allied bomber. _Come on, Colonel, you can't hold her. Drop out of formation. Deliver yourself to me! _Swinging around for another approach, Biedenbender watched as flak exploded up through the underside of Goldilocks and another exploded into the front of the plane. Goldilocks began to lose altitude. "This is it!" Biedenbender shouted leading his planes back in for another pass. The sought after Allied pilot was severed from his stack, these were the final moments of his life as Commander of the 504th Bomb Squadron. _How does it feel, Colonel Hogan? How does it feel to be reduced to the level of victim? To know that you won't be going home todayor maybe ever! _

As the Allied bomber dropped lower it settled into heavy flack, Biedenbender and his crew circled above the flak and watched as the plane was pocked with several more fresh holes. As the remainder of the Allied bombers continued on their way back to London, Goldilocks began her freefall. It was the sight Biedenbender had been waiting for…been dreaming of… and he dove down on the dying bird, spraying her one last time, in case she had any thoughts of a resurrection. The four planes of Biedenbenders Stabsschwarm circled like buzzards and counted the parachutes.

_Nine! One man didn't make it out. Was that one man you, Colonel Hogan?_ Biedenbender followed the dying B-17 as far as he could until he saw it explode into a large orange fireball. Weary with fatigue but infused with the excitement of their victory the planes of his Gruppe joined together for the journey home. It was over!


	3. Chapter Three The Celebration

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes by Bing Crosby Productions, belongs to others. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Three

The Celebration

Biedenbender jumped victoriously from the wing of his plane, into the gathering mob. A drink was thrust into his hand, "To our triumphant Kommodore!" a voice yelled as the crowd hoisted him up onto the shoulders of two of his men, who then paraded their victorious leader around the airfield singing their songs of triumph. Biedenbender joined in the singing, waving his arms, proclaiming the greatness of Germany. And it felt _good_.

The news of Colonel Hogan's defeat at the hands of Oberst Biedenbender was quickly making the rounds of the German upper echelon. Among the first to be informed was the Reichsluftfahrtministerium. The Luftwaffe Air Ministry was situated in Berlin and it wasn't long before all the high-ranking officer's of the German army were joining in the celebration. Reichminister Hermann Goering was at the center of the congratulations, not only in the giving, but also in the receiving. The Fuhrer was pleased.

"Good night, Heinrich! Or should I say, good morning? What a day! When did you say they wanted us in Berlin?" Rolf looked a little worse for wear. He had joined body and soul in the celebration. A celebration that seemed to grow with each congratulatory phone call received. The entire Stabsschwarm was being honored, but it was Biedenbender who had commanded the attack and had laid out the tactics. He would benefit most from its success.

"Friday, the day after tomorrow. You have just about enough time to sleep _that_ off!" Biedenbender laughed and then turned to place his watch and ring on the table next to his cot. He was tired, in a good way. A lot of tension had been relieved for him today, but now his thoughts went back to the American flyer.

"You look troubled, Heinrich. You should not have a care in the world right now. You are a hero to the Fatherland!" Rolf threw his hands up in an all-encompassing gesture before bringing them down and asking, "What is it?"

Biedenbender gave a quick smirk. "You know me too well. I'm just wondering if Commander Hogan is still alive out there…somewhere. I've called and checked. We have captured three of the nine that parachuted from the Allied plane, but Colonel Hogan was not among them. The Fuhrer said he wanted him brought down regardless, but alive would be icing on the cake!" Biedenbender ran his hand across the stubble that had appeared on his normally clean-shaven chin. Rolf was right. It had been a long day.

Rolf nodded, the smile fading from his face. "So what time are _we_ going out tomorrow to look for him?"

Biedenbender turned abruptly and looked into his friend's knowing face. Smiling, he shook his head as he realized there was nothing he could keep from Rolf. "I plan to get a couple hours of sleep, shower, grab something to eat and head out. He has to be west of Hamburg. Dead or alive he's somewhere between Hamburg, Bremerhaven, and Bremen." Biedenbender looked at the floor. "I have to know." He paused. "I have to see his face. I know everything about this man, from where he was born to his favorite pub in London, but I don't have a face to put with it." He looked back at Rolf. "I have to see his face!"

Rolf nodded. "I'll see you at breakfast."

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"There's another group up there on the right," Rolf announced. In between checking the pick-up points for downed flyers, the two had done some searching on their own with no luck. This was the sixth group of prisoners they had run across this morning. They rolled to a stop behind the truck.

Biedenbender strolled up to the German soldiers, while looking over at their four prisoners. "I'm looking for a particular American flyer that was shot down yesterday afternoon." Biedenbender watched as two of the prisoners pulled a third up from where he laid on the ground.

"Ugghh, mmm…"

The German Oberst listened as the third prisoner groaned with the move before going limp. Turning back to the soldiers, he continued, "I'm checking their name tags. Are they still wearing them?" Biedenbender asked, aware that occasionally the German soldiers removed the tags as souvenirs, even though this was not sanctioned.

"Jawohl, Herr Oberst!" one of the guards answered, as he glanced quickly at his comrades and hoped he was speaking for them all.

Biedenbender turned toward the prisoners standing next to the truck, "Halt! Take your dog tags out of your shirts." The two Allied soldiers on either side of the wounded man, struggled to comply, using one hand, while trying to support the American officer they held between them. Biedenbender, seeing the eagles on the injured man's uniform, went straight to the American officer and dug the tags out of his shirt. Resting them against his left palm, he flipped them over with his thumb. There it was, the name that had stared back at him from all of those reports. He glanced quickly at Rolf and smiling, said nothing.

Rolf read the expression and stepped over to join Heinrich. He looked at the bloodied tag and placed his hand on Heinrich's shoulder. "Congratulations, he's still alive." And then looking a little closer at the now, quiet, unmoving man, asked, "Or is he?"

Biedenbender pressed his fingers into Hogan's neck feeling for a pulse and his smile disappeared. "It's there…barely." Sliding his hand around to Hogan's chin, he slowly raised Hogan's head to look at the face of his enemy for the first time. _Funny,_ Biedenbender thought, _in all the information that had been passed on to me, there were no pictures. Maybe that was by design. It's easier to keep everything abstract when you don't see the face. And… there are fewer ghosts to deal with later._

At last there was identity to put with the name. Biedenbender studied the man that had eluded him in the skies over Germany these past months. His face was dirtied with the soot of battle and dried blood was caked on the right side from a wound at the hairline. "So at last we meet, Colonel Hogan. I've imagined this moment countless times."

"Heinrich," Rolf was looking at Hogan's blood-soaked shirt, "he may not survive being transported by truck. If you really want him alive for the Fuhrer, we better take him to Hohemark ourselves."

Biedenbender raised Hogan's shirt only to see the makeshift bandage made from a parachute. _Well, Colonel, you obviously had presence of mind enough to know you couldn't survive with an open wound. _He reached and pulled the bandage forward to have a look. Hogan, without regaining consciousness, immediately moaned in agony and tried to double over. _It must have taken quiet a bit of determination to fight your pain and get those bandages on. I wonder how many times you passed out doing it!_

"Put your officer in the back of my car!" Biedenbender ordered, switching to English. The two prisoners looked at each other and then at the German Oberst, but did not move.

"Unless you want to be responsible for this man's death, I suggest you hurry."

The taller of the two prisoners nodded to the other. "This Colonel, whoever he is, has nothing to lose! Let's do as he says."

Biedenbender, before turning to leave, saluted the German soldiers and ordered, "Carry on!"

"Oberst," the soldier that had found Hogan stepped forward and offered the gun and knife that he had taken from his prisoner. "These belonged to him."

Taking them Biedenbender turned the Colt 1911 pistol over in his hand and answered, "Danke." He then quickly turned his back on the young soldier, before smiling at the _trophy_ he had just been handed.


	4. Chapter Four Yesterday's Heroes

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Four

Yesterday's Heroes

"Can you hear me? What is your name?" Dr. Weinzaphel opened the prisoner's eyes and shined a light into them, checking for pupil reaction, which was a mistake. Hogan attempted to fight him off. Three orderlies were quickly at Weinzaphel's side. "Get him strapped down!" Weinzaphel ordered. Turning back to Biedenbender, he asked, "How aggressive do you want me to be in order to save him?"

Biedenbender looked at the unconscious prisoner, "It is the Fuhrer who wants him alive. I suggest you do everything in your power!"

Weinzaphel paled and mumbled, "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" He turned back around and cut through the bandage Hogan had fashioned for himself, and asked again, "What is your name?" There was no response.

Weinzaphel glanced at Biedenbender. "He's not responding." The doctor began his examination and probed the wound on Hogan's abdomen. This elicited a reaction and Hogan moaned pulling at the restraints. His eyes opened partially and a tear ran over the dried blood on the right side of his face.

"He seems to be responding now," Biedenbender observed.

"Not cognitively." Weinzaphel answered. "He needs surgery, which means he'll need blood. I can't give blood to a prisoner without a signature. Are you willing to authorize treatment?" Weinzaphel asked as he continued his examination.

Biedenbender nodded, "Tell me where to sign."

"All right then." Weinzaphel began calling out orders to the nurses and orderlies and Hogan was soon being whisked away. Biedenbender followed Weinzaphel into the surgical suites and stood at the sink listening as the doctor scrubbed for surgery. Weinzaphel ran through a list of the prisoner's injuries. "I'm not making any promises."

Biedenbender stepped to the surgery room doors and looked through the windows at his prisoner. Hogan alternated between writhing in conscious agony, and blessed unconscious oblivion, as he was undressed and positioned to expose his injuries for surgery. "This man has information I…the Fatherland wants," Biedenbender mumbled, in answer to the surgeon. _You cling to life, Commander._ Biedenbender nodded approvingly to himself._ We are both determined men._

_Ahem! _Weinzaphel cleared his throat and Biedenbender turned to look at him.

"What? Oh!" The Oberst stepped back allowing the doctor to pass.

Weinzaphel entered the operating room and, holding his surgically scrubbed hands up in front of him, paused at the bedside for one last evaluation of Hogan's awareness. "Colonel, Colonel Hogan, can you hear me?" he questioned from behind his surgical mask. Looking closely at Hogan's closed eyes he thought he saw movement under the lids. Was this recognition?

Dr. Klein, the anesthesiologist, began to place the anesthesia mask over his patient's mouth and nose."Wait!" Weinzaphel stopped him and leaning toward Hogan tried again. "Colonel Hogan, can you hear me?" Hogan ever so slightly opened his eyes and managed a guttural broken sound before closing them again as the mask settled onto his face.

"His blood pressure is dropping; we'd better get started." Klein began administering the ether.

Weinzaphel glanced back toward the door where Biedenbender was peering in, and nodded to him, as he called out, "There appears to still be some acknowledgment there. It may not be a lost cause, after all."

Biedenbender nodded back, "Good. I will wait for you to finish. Find me when you are done!" Biedenbender left the operating room suites to join Rolf.

Weinzaphel was gowned and gloved as his assistant and scrub nurse placed surgical drapes over their patient. Stepping up to the sterile operating field, Weinzaphel placed the hand held retractors into the larger more serious abdominal wound and handed them to his assistant. The wound opened up exposing the shrapnel embedded within. After closer examination, he looked at the anesthesiologist. "Are you ready to start giving him blood? When I take this out he's going to start bleeding profusely and it goings to take me a few minutes to get everything tied or clamped off."

Klein nodded. "I've already accessed the vein and have a slow drip going. All I'll have to do is increase the flow. I'm ready when you are."

Weinzaphel nodded as the circulating nurse in charge of maintaining the sterility of the operating field dabbed at a bead of perspiration dripping down Weinzaphel's right temple. Weinzaphiel waited for her to finish and then grasped hold of the irregularly shaped piece of metal with a surgical clamp and pulled while announcing, "Here we go!"

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"Where is he?" Rolf asked as he returned from phoning their superiors and telling them that Commander Hogan had been found…alive.

"They've taken him to surgery. I authorized it."

Rolf's expression turned more serious, "Aren't you sticking your neck out a little, Heinrich?"

Biedenbender shrugged, "I don't think so. The original order was alive if possible."

"Yeah, but it didn't say anything about taking him to surgery to do it. You know there is a shortage of everything with the war," Rolf reminded.

Biedenbender looked into the concerned face of his friend and laughed. "If the higher ups don't like it, I'll have them take the blood he's given back before we shoot him."

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Four hours later Weinzaphel returned with the news the surgery had gone well and the patient was in recovery.

"Keep him sedated. I don't want him getting up and walking out of here," Biedenbender ordered. "I wouldn't want General Burkhalter to get here and not find a patient."

"General Burkhalter is coming?" Weinzaphel asked. "When were you notified?"

Biedenbender nodded, "While you were in surgery. He and a few other officers are coming to see the prisoner. The General wants credit for authorizing treatment on the Allied flyer and will be the one to sign your papers. They will also want to go through his belongings."

"I see. Well, you needn't be concerned. There is no way your prisoner can get up and walk out of here. But I will keep him sedated…heavily sedated. How long do you plan on leaving him here?" Weinzaphel asked. "We'll be using up supplies and bed space."

"Only until moving him won't kill him. Colonel Hogan will be going to Kommandant Killinger for interrogation at the Durchgangslager der Luftwaffe. He only has to be strong enough to speak coherently and answer our questions."

"Very good. Tell Kommandant Killinger he should be able to have his prisoner in seven to ten days, barring any complications. Is there anything else, Herr Oberst? If not, I have patients who are _deserving_ of my attention to see."

"I won't keep you from your duties any longer, doctor." Biedenbender paused and then added, "Oh, there is one more thing; I don't want my name mentioned to the American Colonel."

"Don't worry; I won't mention your name! And he won't remember anything. He had lost too much blood and was in shock before his surgery. Auf Wiedersehen!" Weinzaphel ended the conversation abruptly and quickly disappeared down the hall.

Biedenbender turned and started off in the opposite direction. "Where are you going now, Heinrich? I thought we were going to swing by Auswertestelle West and talk to Kommandant Killinger and then get on with our lives!" Rolf trotted along beside Biedenbender as he made his way toward his undisclosed destination. They stopped outside a swinging door and Biedenbender looked through the window before stepping inside. His eyes soon fell on a figure lying on a gurney in a corner of the room. A nurse had just spiked and hung an IV bottle whose tubing was running into the patient's arm. Biedenbender approached the bed, while the nurse picked up a moist cloth and dabbed at the perspiration on the man's face.

"Mmmm," the patient moaned and his eyelids parted just a bit.

"Shh, Herr Colonel, Go back to sleep."

Biedenbender stepped closer and watched as Hogan's body, still in shock, trembled and he again closed his eyes. _Yes, Colonel, you're still alive. You have caused too much pain and suffering to be allowed to die. That would be too easy…too quick. _

"Oh! Who are you?" the startled nurse asked, turning to see the two officers standing behind her.

"That is not important! Go about your business," Rolf demanded.

"This man cannot talk to you; he is still groggy from surgery," the nurse informed them.

"We are not here to talk, nurse. Now leave us!" Rolf continued firmly.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, what do you want?" the nurse continued to question.

Biedenbender, having looked again at the face of his enemy, was satisfied he would not forget it. _You don't look nearly as menacing lying there on your back, Colonel! __Seeing you like that one might make the mistake of thinking you were human, instead of an ogre capable of inflicting pain and destruction on our people. _Biedenbender tore his eyes away from the broken man laying on the gurney, and turned to the nurse. "Don't worry, nurse, we're leaving." Biedenbender clicked his heels and turned for the door, with Rolf again close by his side.

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	5. Chapter Five Destinies

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended

Chapter Five

Destinies

The trip to the Durchgangslager der Luftwaffe was a noisy one filled with adrenalin packed exuberance. Both men were expounding on their luck.

"Heinrich, you have always been on the lucky side of Fate! Finding this American Colonel alive is going to send another wave of exhilaration through Berlin! This has got to make the Fuhrer happy, which will in turn make Goering happy. I'd say you've exonerated yourself twice over!"

Biedenbender laughed loudly. "After standing in front of Goering and the High Command and being chastised for inefficiency, I can't tell you the satisfaction I'm feeling at being able to hand this curse to the Fatherland over to them, for interrogation."

It was Hogan's upcoming interrogation, and expected relinquishing of information that prompted this trip to the Durchgangslager to visit Kommandant Killinger. Like a cat playing with a mouse, Biedenbender wanted to be kept informed of Hogan's progress.

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"Yes, yes, Oberst Biedenbender, come in. I have been listening to your praises on the radio. And you must be Major Schinner!" Kommandant Killinger stood next to his open office door and waved them inside. "Have a seat! This is indeed an honor. What can I do for you?"

"I suppose, since you know who I am, you know who Colonel Hogan is also," Biedenbender waited for affirmation before continuing.

Rolf watched with amusement as Heinrich gave Kommandant Killinger the good news.

Killinger was leaning back in his chair nodding his head. "I do. But the information is that he hasn't been found…nor his body identified…yet." The silence from his guests prompted Killinger to sit forward. "Are you telling me he _has_ been found…" Killinger leaned across his desk, as it dawned on him that his guests wouldn't be here unless, "…alive?" Killinger anxiously awaited an answer. He could feel his heart quicken at the thought of adding this Allied officer's name to his prisoner roster. The Kommandant would then be able to claim some of the glory this American's capture had been spreading around Germany_. As commander of a bomber group, Colonel Hogan will have vital military information to be obtained and handed over to Berlin_. Killinger smiled as he realized that he would be identified as the man under whose direction this information was attained.

Biedenbender smiled, "Yes, Herr Kommandant, he is at Hohemark hospital recovering from surgery to remove shrapnel from his left side, right shoulder and leg. He had lost a lot of blood and was practically dead when we found him. Dr. Weinzaphel said to tell you he would be ready to transfer to your care in seven to ten days."

"Wundervoll! Thank you for taking the time to come by and tell me yourself." Killinger was already forming a plan for managing his prize prisoner. "I will have Major Junge assign our best interrogator to take charge of this man."

Biedenbender could not contain his merriment and laughed out loud. "I'm glad I could bring you the good news, but there is something I would like from you."

Killinger looked questioningly at Biedenbender. "Yes? What is that?"

"I would like you to keep me informed of his progress. And…I don't want my name mentioned to him. Call it an idiosyncrasy, or a pilot's superstition, but I don't want him to have any knowledge of me."

"But of course." Killinger nodded. And we will also be glad to keep you informed of Colonel Hogan's progress while he is our _guest_ here. Is there something you hope to learn in particular from this American?"

Biedenbender nodded, "I want to know his character. I have made a study of this man for several months, and I'm curious about how he handles himself now that he has been defeated. He was the scourge of the skies over Germany, raining destruction down on the Fatherland. Let's see how he handles being on the ground and having personal contact with the _enemy_." Biedenbender's eyes twinkled with satisfaction. _It's retribution time, Herr Colonel._

Smiling, Killinger sat back in his chair and answered, "I understand…perfectly."

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_FRIDAY IN __BERLIN_

"Ja, Ja, Come in!" Biedenbender bellowed, stepping back to allow the waiter to wheel his cart into the room. He and the members of his Stabsschwarm were being treated like royalty. Food, drink, female companionship, life was indeed good for these heroes of the moment. They had arrived in Berlin early in the day, been greeted by the highest-ranking officers of the Luftwaffe, commended for their bravery and accomplishments, and then were paraded on horse back through the thundering crowds. The cheering people of Germany had reached to touch the feet of their heroes where their boots slipped into the stirrups, and to hand them flowers in grateful appreciation for stopping at least this one notorious monster from dropping bombs on their homes, cities and families.

With one exhaustive day behind them, they were now resting up for the next day. A day that was promising to be filled with even more prestige than what had already been lavished upon them. In the morning, Biedenbender and his men would receive their decorations from the Fuhrer himself, at a presentation in front of all of Berlin. It was a presentation that would be filmed as well as broadcast on the radio, an event that promised to be both unforgettable and rewarding. And it proved to be all of that…and more.

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Biedenbender was in shock and continued to replay the Fuhrer's presentation in his head, seeing in his minds eye the insignias as they were removed from their presentation box and pinned in place on his uniform. He could still smell the presence of his leader standing in front of him, and hear the Fuhrer's words echoing out across the crowd, "…for outstanding leadership…undeniable courage… exemplifying the supremacy of the German Luftwaffe… grateful nation… promote you to…_General_ Biedenbender!"

Biedenbender knew his promotion was as much a case of being in the right place at the right time as it was a reward for his own abilities and expertise. The propaganda ministry was using him to pump some pride and confidence into the German people. But he didn't mind being used in this manner. Shaking his head free of the memories he brought himself back to the present.

"Are you listening to me?" Rolf questioned, after receiving no response from his friend.

"Huh? What'd you say?" Biedenbender asked..

"I said, I think I'm going to be deaf for the next week!" Rolf complained, as they arrived to dine the officers of the High Command. This was Biedenbender's welcome into the _club_.

Biedenbender had heard, and knew exactly what his friend meant. The roar of the crowd left a definite humming in the ears. He stopped in the middle of crossing the elegant restaurant and turned to look at Rolf, while laughing mischievously, as his wingman and friend began again for the third time.

"I said I think…" Rolf suddenly realized Heinrich was having fun with him. "Ha, ha, very funny!" Rolf picked up a roll from a table he was passing and began to feign throwing it at Heinrich, and caught himself. "I guess I shouldn't throw things at a General." Rolf shook his head and added, "Wouldn't you know it, I finally make Oberst and you're still a grade ahead of me!"

"Some things never change, Rolf," Biedenbender kidded, clasping his arm around his friend's shoulder as they continued to traverse the dining room. "Our move to Berlin will not change our friendship!"

"I never thought it would," Rolf said with admiration. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the serious turn the conversation had taken. Stopping suddenly, he looked at Heinrich, flashed him a big, tooth filled, grin, and joked,

"So now that you're on a first name basis…what's the Fuhrer really like?"


	6. Chapter Six Wool Gathering

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter 6

Wool Gathering

"He's still feeling the effects of the sedatives. But those will wear off completely over the next five hours," Weinzaphel explained. Hogan's last dose of medication had been skipped in preparation for transporting him out of the hospital. The orderlies and nurses had gotten him up and dressed and he was now sitting at the nurse's station in the prisoners' hallway waiting on his paperwork to be finished.

Biedenbender wanted to see Colonel Hogan in a conscious state, to feel his _moral fiber_, and had come to personally hand him over to the guards from the Durchgangslager der Luftwaffe. This was the only time he had allowed himself to seek out a pilot that he had shot down. This was the only time it had been…personal.

"Thank you, Doctor. Your contribution to our efforts has been duly noted."

General Biedenbender watched from behind Hogan as the American fought to stay awake and observe what was going on around hima battle he wasn't always winning. His head kept drooping forward as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

_Are you confused, Colonel? Good. But don't worry; things are about to become very clear to you._ This thought pleased Biedenbender and he smiled knowingly.

Turning to the Luftwaffe soldiers that had come to transport the prisoner, he smirked. "Do you know who you have here?"

"Jawohl, Herr General, an American Colonel." The soldier looked at the papers in his hand, "Oberst Hogan, Herr General." The young Corporal looked back at Biedenbender and the name registered. The lad's eyes widened and he looked again at the General standing in front of him. "General…Biedenbender?" he hesitantly questioned.

"I am. Do not take your eyes off of this man. The Fuhrer himself has an interest in him, and should he escape while being transported, he will personally pull the trigger at your execution. Do I make myself clear?"

The young soldiers stiffened as they chanted together, "Jawohl, Herr General!"

Biedenbender puffed his chest out with pride at the sound of his new title. He had been a General for just over a week and he was enjoying the recognition. Looking at the guards, he nodded in Hogan's direction and said, "Take him!"

Jumping at the order, the soldiers rushed to carry them out, and going around to the front of the sitting prisoner, yanked him out of the chair to his feet. A wave of pain gripped Hogan as his newly healing injuries protested the action. He bowed forward to relieve the stress on his wounds as the guards fastened the cuffs on his wrists. The restraints puzzled Hogan and he stared at his wrists trying to make sense out of what was happening.

Seeing Hogan's confusion and discomfort, Biedenbender could not resist the opportunity to taunt the man he had brought down to earth. As he approached Hogan, he thought, _Get used to it, Colonel. You're going to be confined for the remainder of the war. And after we have defeated you and your allies you will have your war crimes to answer for. You may never get out of those shackles! _

Biedenbender, leaning in from behind Hogan, stopped next to Hogan's ear and in loud, heavily accented English, said, "You have done well, Colonel Hogan. Now it is time for the real adventure to begin."

Hogan cocked his head slightly toward the voice, but his vision was already darkening and his knees buckled as his world went black. Catching their charge, the guards half dragged, half carried him to the waiting staff car.

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Biedenbender stood silently and watched as Hogan disappeared from view. _Well, Colonel, this is where we part company, but not contact. I have saved you for interrogation. Kommandant Killlinger will learn all of your deepest secrets, which he will of course share with me. Then you will be sent to a POW camp to sit out the remainder of the war. Not the glorious end to your career that you were anticipating I'll wager! _

General Biedenbender glanced around at the prisoner's rooms as he walked to the exit. No amenities here. The windows were all barred as well as the end of the hall where the confinement unit joined the rest of the hospital.

"Herr General, Heil Hitler!" the guard snapped and saluted before unlocking the caged door.

Biedenbender acknowledged the young man, returned his salute, and then inquisitively asked, "Do they ever give you any trouble?" Biedenbender nodded toward the prisoners' rooms.

"Nein, Herr General!"

Biedenbender nodded, "So it is usually pretty quiet."

"Nein, Herr General."

Biedenbender frowned and looked at the guard questioningly.

The young private straightened as he realized the General was waiting for an explanation.

Stammering, he complied.

"There is usually a lot of moaning and crying, Herr General. Pain medicine is not wasted on prisoners." The soldier paused and added, "Unless the Red Cross is coming."

"I see." Biedenbender nodded. _It seems I did you a favor by keeping you sedated, Colonel. _Biedenbender shook his head in disgust. _Oh, well, it couldn't be helped. Now that we have you, I couldn't take a chance on you getting away. _

As if on cue a painful gurgling cry rang out from one of the rooms. Biedenbender looked over his shoulder as the guard explained. "Morning dressing changes, Herr General."

Nodding Biedenbender concluded, _Well__ maybe you didn't miss out on everything, Herr Colonel…but you probably won't remember it, _he realized with disgust as he walked off the unit.

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"We do more than care for the sick and injured, Herr General," the nurse answered. Biedenbender had strolled through another part of the hospital on a fact finding mission. "The experiments conducted here will give us information to help our soldiers and enable them to carry out their jobs more efficiently."

"So I've been told." Biedenbender smiled at the nurse. He had heard about the Fuhrer's scientists and that there were experiments being conducted in various places around Germany. One of those places was Hohemark and he decided while he was here, to learn what he could. _You never know what information will give you an edge at a critical time_. _This young nurse could be a good source of that information. _Now that he was playing with the _big boys,_ he needed to remain cautious and well informed of what was going on all around him. "I have been given a few days leave to…review my new responsibilities. I came here to wrap up a loose end and thought I would spent the night in your lovely town. You would certainly make my time here less lonely if you would have dinner with me tonight."

"Danke, Herr General, I would like that."

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	7. Chapter Seven Reflections

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Seven

Reflections

Two days later at the Dulag 

"… only name rank and serial number. I did notice a hesitation when I told him the date. He was truly disoriented to time. I tried various tactics to get him to make a slip and give us some information, but he wouldn't answer. The American wouldn't even acknowledge his bomber group. In fact, he's already told me I'm going to be doing most of the talking. And when I asked him how he liked it here, he gave a flippant answer about our towels not being very nice." Major Boehringer tapped his pencil on his desk as he reviewed his notes.

Biedenbender sat in his swivel chair at his desk evaluating the information being shared with him and commented, "It sounds like the respite he got in the hospital over the past week has given him enough strength to offer us some resistance. But it shouldn't take much to wear him down. You will continue interrogating him twice a day?" Biedenbender asked and then covered the phone receiver as he answered the knock on his door. "Come." His secretary opened the door and quietly ushered Rolf in before again leaving.

"Jawohl, Herr General." Boehringer stopped tapping his pencil and closed his eyes, dreading what he had to say next. "Oh, I'm afraid I wasn't told about keeping your name out of our conversation until later after my initial session with Colonel Hogan, and in an effort to get under his skin and shake him up, I mentioned your referral to him as 'the scourge of the skies' and that he was targeted specifically. But…" Boehringer opened his eyes and, pausing to choose his words, carefully continued, "…with your heroic exploits as the Oberst who ended Colonel Hogan's career still fresh on everyone's tongue I did slip and referred to you as Colonel instead of General."

Rolf, sitting across the desk from Biedenbender, watched as his friend rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. He recognized the move. _Oh, oh, somebody just said something unbelievably stupid. _Rolf smiled as he listened to the one sided conversation.

"I see. Well, since he had no knowledge of me before you mentioned my name it will hardly matter if you referred to me as Oberst or General," Biedenbender commented incredulously.

Rolf let a low laugh escape but changed it into a throat clearing as Heinrich scowled in his direction.

"No sir, but I think your perception of his condition is very insightful. He is not as strong as he would like to appear and I don't think he is as focused as he would like to be. I'm not sure that your name registered in his mind." It was suddenly quiet on the other end of the phone and Boehringer froze waiting for a reaction.

Biedenbender, having had a command of his own, was well practiced in the art of _pausing _to make a point He allowed just enough time to pass to catch the listener's full attention. "All right, Major, we will assume this to be the case. But do not use my name again. You will find another way to loosen his tongue. Tell Major Junge I will call for an update in a few days. Heil Hitler!" Biedenbender looked at Rolf as he hung up the phone.

"So the American is not talking?" Rolf asked.

Biedenbender rested his chin on his right fist and looked at Rolf. "It would seem Colonel Hogan has a stubborn streak in him."

Rolf scowled and shook his head. "Some men just don't know when they're beaten. Don't worry, Heinrich, he'll soon learn." Quickly changing the subject, Rolf started talking about more pressing matters. "Here is a list of the changes you said you wanted to present to the High Command. And this is the list of inductees for the Luftwaffe's next class of pilots."

Biedenbender's days were filled with exploring his new responsibilities. Now charged with directing the selection and training of Luftwaffe pilots, Biedenbender found he had to plan his time carefully. He was well suited to his task and with Rolf still at his side as his assistant, they were finally able to make the changes they had always said needed to be done. Their new positions allowed them to stay actively involved with the war and allowed them to keep up with any improvements the Luftwaffe made. They were also able to learn about information obtained by their spies concerning the advances the Allies were making in order to help them to strategize their training programs. Therefore, continued interest in the American Colonel's progress was viewed as understandable.

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_Ten days later_

"…ten days in a cramped solitary cell on simple rations, while still being interrogated twice daily, and he _still_ only chants his name, rank and serial number. His physical condition is deteriorating. He is limping noticeably, and his bandages are dirty and show signs of fresh bleeding. I thought maybe in his weakened condition I could increase his understanding of his predicament by showing him how precarious his existence is. I had the guard strike him, knocking him to the floor. In his weakened condition, I expected him to lie there."

"He didn't?"

"Nein, Herr General. He struggled back up to his feet. He stood there swaying, but defiant. He obviously is stronger than he looks, so I placed him on starvation rations." Boehringer laughed. "He remains outspoken, too. He said that it wouldn't be much of a change. I said 'Good then you won't even notice.' I don't think he liked my response. He challenged me with bold eye contact and did not break his gaze until the Obergefreiter pulled him away and took him back to his solitary cell."

"You don't seem to be getting very far with our Colonel Hogan, Major."

"Hunger is a great persuader, Herr General. A few days without food and he'll be willing to tell us everything for a dry crust of bread," Boehringer answered.

Biedenbender sat thinking, following his conversation with Major Boehringer. _Defiant, outspoken, and challenging! __You surprise me Colonel. This doesn't fall into the picture I had of you. Is it possible you are more than a good pilot racking up points for medals at the cost of innocent people's lives, more than a player of a game that never touches you personally? Maybe you're not as shallow as I thought? Maybe you're just ignorant with misplaced loyalties. _Biedenbender frowned. Changing his opinion was not something he often did. He considered himself to be an excellent judge of character. _General Burkhalter is calling the Durchgangslager for updates, too. He told me he is trying to decide what to do with you after they've finished the interrogation at the Durchgangslager. Colditz was suggested by some of the other officers of the High Command, however Burkhalter is not convinced you need a maximum-security prison. But your refusal to talk may save the General the problem of deciding where to lock you up. The Fuhrer is growing impatient and if he views you as a troublemaker, you'll go to Colditz…period._ _Give up, Colonel Hogan. You can't win. In the end German supremacy will triumph and you will tell us what we want to know. _

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A week and a half later at the Durchgangslager der Luftwaffe 

"No, sir, not even after ten days on a starvation diet. I must say, Herr General, if the old adage 'You can judge a man by his enemies' is correct, your enemy is a great reflection on your character, sir," Boehringer commented.

"Mmm." Biedenbender was lost in thought. _I didn't expect you to last this long, Colonel Hogan. I'd be tempted to say that Major Boehringer doesn't know what he's doing_,_ but his record speaks for itself...what…what did he just say? _Biedenbender brought his attention back to his phone conversation. "I'm sorry, Major, what was that about the Gestapo?"

"I said, Major Junge and I met this morning and decided Colonel Hogan might benefit from a day with the Geheim Staats Polizie. We have used them a few times when we wanted information quickly. In this case it might be what's required to shake up the prisoner. Deprivation alone is weakening his body, but some concentrated physical stress may be what we need to break his will."

Biedenbender weighed Boehringer's information. "The Gestapo has some rather stringent rules about prisoners they interrogate. They either break at the hands of the Gestapo or they die at the hands of the Gestapo. Not that that matters to me, but I don't want to lose the information this man has to offer simply because the Gestapo doesn't want to be made a fool of."

"I agree, Herr General, but in this case they would not be interrogating. They will ask no questions and expect no answers. They simply practice technique and we resume the interrogation when they are done. It is a symbiotic relationship that has worked well in the past. The Gestapo becomes more proficient at their skills, and we get a more cooperative prisoner. In fact, we have never had a prisoner require a second visit from the Gestapo."

Biedenbender smiled, "I'll bet you haven't. Although, I imagine there have been a few prisoners who have decided to cooperate at the sight of the Gestapo, in order to avoid the promised encounter altogether."

Boehringer laughed, "There have been a few who would have liked that, but I'm afraid once the Gestapo has arrived, the prisoner has relinquished his option to choose. His only choice at that point is to not go through it again."

"Well, Major, I must say I never expected Colonel Hogan to be this obstinate. Hopefully, the next time I call, you will be able to tell me he succumbed to your methods and relinquished the information he has been guarding. I will call you in a few days. Heil Hitler!" Biedenbender hung up the phone without waiting to hear a response. He was frustrated.

_Why do you persist in this, Colonel Hogan? The Fuhrer is still watching. If you're not careful, you won't have to worry about Colditz; he'll have you shot. _Biedenbender pushed himself back from his desk and paced to the window. His contempt for the American pilot was being tempered with respect. The man was face to face with his enemy, with no recourse, subjected to neglect, threatened and beaten and still he would not talk to save himself. Biedenbender was beginning to realize they had more in common than their flying abilities. They were both dedicated to their cause.

_After talking with your interrogators, I know you even better, Colonel. You have one redeeming quality: a sense of duty. That is something I can understand. Maybe you're not as shallow as I originally thought. _Biedenbender leaned against the windowsill as his views of the American began to change. He shook his head and turned to take a step away from the window and away from the thought that maybe they were more alike than he wanted to admit.

Biedenbender walked past his desk, grabbed his bag off of the chair by the door and glanced at his watch. _I've got just enough time to get to the airfield and meet Rolf. I'm sure this will lose its appeal in time, but right now, I'm looking forward to pinning the wings on our newest group of pilots. It seems like it has been a lifetime ago, since my own graduation._ Biedenbender paused, staring blindly across the room._ I must admit to feeling a great deal of satisfaction, when I look back at all of my accomplishments. But my greatest satisfaction is in knowing that the man who almost cost me my career has, by his defeat, catapulted me up the ladder of success. _Biedenbender threw his shoulders back, inhaled deeply, and savored the sweet feeling of victory. As his eyes again focused on his surroundings, he gazed proudly at the Colt 1911 pistol, displayed in the trophy case hanging on his office wall. It was an intimate symbol of triumph over his enemy. With a snide grin on his face, Biedenbender clicked his heels, touched the brim of his cap, and nodded, _Touché, Colonel Hogan!_

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	8. Chapter Eight Paradox

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Eight

Paradox

The cigarette crunched under his finger as he ground out what remained of the burning tobacco. Blowing out a stream of smoke, he continued, "Major Boehringer was furious with Colonel Hogan after the daylight bombing of the railway yard at Rouen. He feels Hogan's silence was a personal affront to make him look bad, while at the same time being a blatant attack on Germany. Since that time, Colonel Hogan has spent the last eleven days in a small climate-controlled cell, without being removed, even for interrogation, as punishment for withholding information." Biedenbender paced from behind his desk to stand in front of Rolf.

"I've heard of those heated cells," Rolf frowned. "But I thought they were only used by the Gestapo."

Biedenbender shook his head negatively. "The Luftwaffe has them at the Durchgangslager, too. The cell is heated to its maximum one hundred and thirty degrees during the day and pumped with cold air at night dropping the temperature below freezing." Biedenbender turned and paced to the window before turning back to face Rolf.

"I know it's harsh, Heinrich, but it sounds to me like he earned it. You know yourself he withheld that information." Rolf studied his friend trying to see where he was going with his statements. They both agreed that punishment, and a certain amount of torment were sometimes necessary to get results, and this American seemed to be proving that theory.

"Perhaps," was all Biedenbender said as he glanced down at the floor. _Rolf is right. If Hogan withheld that information, he deserves to be punished._ _However punishment, as an interrogation method, only works if you stop before it kills them. Boehringer has to know that…what am I thinking, of course he knows that. He's an expert at his job. Don't worry Heinrich, they're not going to kill your prime catch. You'll still be able to find a way to use him to your advantage._

Biedenbender jerked his head up and looked again at Rolf. "But this attack at Rouen happened during Hogan's day with the Gestapo-- a day I'm sure our American pilot won't be able to forget," Heinrich assured Rolf before continuing. "Boehringer had no way of knowing if Colonel Hogan would have talked about the attack on the railway yard, following his enlightenment by the Gestapo. Boehringer didn't talk to Hogan when the Gestapo were done. He didn't think Hogan would be capable of responding without being allowed to rest first. So instead, he had Hogan placed back in his cell. The next morning when Boehringer learned of the previous days attack on the railway yard he confronted Hogan and accused him of withholding information," Biedenbender huffed. "Even if Boehringer had given Hogan a chance to talk it would have been too late. The bombing occurred while the Gestapo was working the American over."

Rolf nodded his head and turned taking a step to increase the distance between himself and Heinrich, before turning back. "Well, he had the opportunity to tell the _Gestapo_ about Rouen, and evidently he didn't!" Rolf countered.

Biedenbender shook his head negatively. "No, Rolf. Hogan was given over to the Gestapo for physical punishment only. The Gestapo didn't even know what questions the interrogators were trying to get answers to."

"Okay, Heinrich, I give up! What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to understand…" _What?_ _What is it that gnaws at me?_ _Hogan is being treated no differently than we would be treated, if the shoe were on the other foot…maybe that's it. _Biedenbender shrugged and turned his back on Rolf. _Because the very thing I want him to do…I respect him for not doing._

"Heinrich…" Rolf began as he took a step toward his friends back. "I'd like to help. You're obviously bothered about something, but I don't know exactly what you're getting at."

There was a moment of silence before Biedenbender answered. "I don't understand why Colonel Hogan doesn't give us his information. He's held out long enough; he would be exonerated if he talked now." Biedenbender silently admitted to himself, _I didn't expect this from an obviously inferior race. _Again finding his voice, Biedenbender continued, _"_It would be viewed as a breakdown, temporary insanity, and understandable for his kind with their inherent deficiencies, under these conditions. Nobody would fault him. So why doesn't he give up?" Biedenbender fell silent once agani, while he answered his own question. _That's not entirely true either, even though his blood line is inferior, he would fault himself, not his genetic heritage. I know this man…like I know myself._ _Wise up, Colonel Hogan, you can't fight who…or what you are._

"There's more, Heinrich. What are you not telling me?"

Biedenbender nodded, "Yes, there's more. Major Junge called me early this morning. They are letting Hogan out of his cell today and Major Boehringer is going to try for the last time to get Hogan to talk. If he doesn't answer the Major, the Gestapo will be invited back for their second visit, one in which they _will _be the interrogators."

Rolf nodded, in agreement with that bit of news, and laid his hand on Heinrich's shoulder. "Good, maybe we will finally see some results!" Rolf wanted this business with Colonel Hogan finished. For some reason Heinrich was bothered by it and Rolf didn't like it. "I hate to say it, Heinrich, but the Luftwaffe interrogation methods have not succeeded with this American Colonel. He is going to require careful and experienced handling. The kind the Gestapo is trained to deliver."

Biedenbender looked at his friend wanting to tell Rolf what he was feeling but, still coming to terms with it himself, remained silent. _The respect I almost feel for Hogan would not be understood by Rolf_. _And maybe he would be right. Maybe it is pity I should feel. Pity for someone who has no hope of succeeding against the Master Race, and who by his own inferior genetic inheritance, is too stupid to realize it._

"Enough of this American! We have taken him out of the sky and he is no longer worth our time." Rolf said waving his hand dismissively. "We have more important things to discuss." Rolf opened his notebook and checked their appointments. "You have a meeting with the Directors of Training and Intelligence at two o'clock this afternoon and a dinner party tonight given by General Burkhalter celebrating his niece's birthday. I suggest if you haven't yet bought a gift, you concentrate on that, and leave this has been American to the Gestapo."

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_Four Days Later:_

Biedenbender looked up from the paperweight he had been staring at and replaced the image with memories of the men he had seen suffer through Gestapo interrogations. He blinked the image out of his mind and looked at Rolf.

"Don't look at me like that, Heinrich! I know what they are capable of, but this is war! We can't be nice guys and expect to win. This is not like the war our fathers fought, where they took their captured enemy pilots to dinner and traded stories before turning them in!" Rolf didn't particularly care for the Gestapo's methods, but as far as he was concerned, this was a time when they were definitely needed.

"I'm not arguing that. I agree that Colonel Hogan needs a firm hand, but it makes no sense to beat a man to death before you obtain what you want from him. And we both know the Gestapo will do it. That is not going to accomplish anything for the Third Reich."

"Why not? If he is not helping our cause he is hindering it. Honestly, Heinrich, as much trouble as he's been to the Luftwaffe, the Gestapo and to you, I wish I had just put a bullet in his head and saved us all a lot of trouble," Rolf confessed.

Biedenbender looked with earnest at Rolf. His friend's words had hit him hard. Biedenbender knew that it was only by the grace of God that the two of them were still standing on German soil…or even alive. And Biedenbender had no doubt, if the situations were reversed, he would be just as stoic as Colonel Hogan. _I wonder, _he thought, _had we been shot down over enemy territory would somebody have put a bullet in our heads to save themselves the trouble of interrogating us?_ He shook the thought from his head. It didn't matter, that Colonel Hogan was doing his duty, he was still the enemy and as such, he deserved what was being handed out to him. Biedenbender's thoughts turned back to the subject at hand. "But that's just it; he can be of service to us. We can use the American Colonel for another purpose, one that will benefit Germany."

"What do you mean?" Rolf questioned.

"I've been doing some investigating." Biedenbender began. "The Fuhrer is very much in favor of, and is supporting, programs for scientific research. These programs are vast. Dr. Hubertus Strughold, the doctor in charge of 'aviation medicine' is studying methods to improve flying conditions for our Luftwaffe, and they are looking for specimens to test and study. I discussed this with Reichminister Goering. I suggested the Luftwaffe might still be able to get some valuable information out of the American Colonel, in a manner that did not require his cooperation. The fact that being used as a guinea pig would be a humiliating and humbling experience for the proud and arrogant Colonel Hogan was met with some satisfaction also."

"You went to Goering with your idea?" Rolf's eyes opened wider.

"Now who's giving _the look_?" Beidenbender commented, and then with satisfaction, continued. "Goering approved. Of course I don't know if it was necessarily because he agreed with my idea of Hogan's worth as a test subject or if it was just that Goering didn't want the Gestapo getting their hands on Luftwaffe property, but he has taken the proposal to the Fuhrer."

Rolf was puzzled that Heinrich was still allowing himself to be involved with this American Colonel. "Heinrich, you've become obsessed with this man. Before you shot him down you didn't care whether the American lived or died and now you're risking everything hoping that the Fuhrer will agree with your idea to get him away from the Gestapo. You know, the Fuhrer could just as easily have _you_ shot, if he thinks you're being sympathetic to the enemy!" Rolf paced nervously.

"I…" _Riinngg__, riinngg_. Biedenbender stopped mid-sentence and reached for the phone. "This is Gen…Jawohl, Reichminister!" Biedenbender's face took on a look of concentration as he listened. "Thank-you sir, I'm glad my suggestions were well received."

Rolf stiffened and tried to read Heinrich's body language, hoping to get an idea of whether it was good or bad news coming from the other end of the phone.

"Brainwashing?" Biedenbender muttered. "…from birth?"

Rolf stepped closer to see if he could hear Goering's voice through the phone, but it was to no avail.

"Yes, Herr Reichminister. So these experiments are to see if they can do the same thing with an adult?" Biedenbender asked and grew silent again as he listened. "That is very interesting." More silence as a look of amazement passed over Biedenbender's face. "Yes, sir, I will make that call immediately! Heil Hitler!"

"What? Don't just look at me dumbfounded like that! What did he say?" Rolf stepped closer, eagerly waiting for an answer.

Biedenbender cleared his throat. "The Fuhrer was very receptive to the suggestion. In fact he picked up the phone while Reichminister Goering was with him and talked to the scientist in charge of a program they have been working on for years."

"A program they've been working on for years?" Rolf asked in amazement.

Biedenbender rubbed his chin and nodded. "Yes, in fact they had just finished picking their alpha test subjects on whom they will trial techniques learned from a group of beta subjects. Colonel Hogan is being added to the alpha group. They will use him to study the use of mescaline and how it affects the brain. The plan is to find a way to brainwash adults." Biedenbender chuckled as he added, "Wouldn't that be ironic." Shaking his amusement off he sobered, "Anyway, Colonel Hogan is _fortunate_ enough to get in on the ground floor of this study, as well as participating in a few other tests that will benefit our fliers." Biedenbender smiled again.

"What is it Heinrich?" Rolf asked.

"I'm just thinking how paradoxical it is that Colonel Hogan by his determination to give us nothing has seen to it that we _take_ everything he has …or is, and has once again contributed to making me look good in the eyes of the Fuhrer." Biedenbender reached for the phone.

"Who are you calling?" Roth asked.

"Reichminister Goering told me to call the Durchgangslager and tell them that Hogan is being transferred to Hohemark. Goering is calling to personally notify Himmler of the Fuhrer's decision."

"Himmler? How did he get involved in this?" Rolf was mesmerized by the complexity this one man seemed to be stirring up.

"It had been decided that enough time had been wasted on the American and they wanted to end it before the Red Cross made their next rounds. Permission had already been given to flog the American Colonel tomorrow morning. " Biedenbender redirected his attention into the phone and frowned as the phone was answered harshly by Major Boehringer.

"Boehringer," the Major snapped. He had just been told to have doctor Weinzaphel at the Dulag in the morning for Hogan's flogging, an order that meant a lashing of at least thirty strokes. Boehringer knew the American could not survive a flogging of that length in his current condition. Thirty lashes were often beyond the limitations of healthy men. He had grown to respect the obstinate American and this latest turn of events left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he let his displeasure show in the tone of his voice.

"This is General Biedenbender." Biedenbender paused waiting for an appropriate reply.

Boehringer toned down his anger. "Jawohl, Herr General."

I have an order from the Fuhrer regarding your prisoner, Colonel Hogan. You will stop the Gestapo interrogation of the prisoner immediately!"

"Ja… Ja. Naturlich, Herr General." Boehringer felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The Allied Colonel's dedication to duty was admirable. He had seen all kinds of men during his job as interrogator of enemy flyers, but no man had shown more resistance nor had been exposed for such an extended period of time to such harsh treatment _and resisted_ as this American Colonel.

"He is to be prepared for transfer to Hohemark for experimental testing. Can you have him ready in the morning?"

"… Ja…" Boehringer was interrupted before he could say more.

Biedenbender wanted to cut this phone call short and allow Boehringer to carry out his orders quickly. He could only imagine what four days with the Gestapo could have done to a man already suffering from multiple injuries.

"Call the Gestapo interrogators to your office and tell them they no longer have jurisdiction over the prisoner."

"…sofort…" Boehringer nodded.

"You do not have to make any explanations or justifications for your actions. Simply tell them that your orders come from Berlin. Heil Hitler!"

Boehringer finished with a resounding, "Danke General. Heil Hitler."

Heinrich, turned from the phone as he replaced the receiver and began speaking. "Hopefully there is something left of him to save."

Rolf looked down at the floor and just shook his head. "You've gone to a lot of trouble for him, Heinrich. I hope you don't live to regret it! Rolf sighed. "All he needs to do is escape and everything could turn around on you."

"I know Rolf."

"Then why?"

Biedenbender looked away._ His determination mesmerize s me. I want to know how far he can go...how long he can last. And_…"Because, take me out of Germany, Rolf, and I'm him."

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	9. Chapter Nine Relinquished

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Nine

Relinquished

"When I heard we had you to thank for the Fuhrer placing Colonel Hogan back under Luftwaffe jurisdiction…" Burkhalter smiled, "…more specifically under _my_ authority, I thought you would enjoy seeing this," Burkhalter announced to Biedenbender. "We have been granted permission to observe as they evaluate Colonel Hogan's responses to a series of tests as long as we do not interfere."

Biedenbender nodded, "I understand." _Rank does have its privileges, and I'm quickly learning the benefits of being a General_.

Burkhalter continued, "They'll begin with the studies for behavior modification using drugs to alter perception. The drug dosages will be increased with each round. The beta tests subjects they used to establish the dosage limits for the alpha test group were not able to control their thoughts after the fourth round of mescaline and became susceptible to suggestions, paranoia or irreversible psychosis. Even though some test subjects seemed to know that they were hallucinating, they couldn't stop the hallucinations."

"They knew they were hallucinating?" Biedenbender asked.

Burkhalter nodded, "Some did. But after the sixth dose I'm told most of them had lost contact with reality all together."

"How does this enable us to brainwash them?" Biedenbender asked. Does it cause amnesia and if so does their memory ever come back?

"I have no idea. I am not a scientist," Burkhalter answered, as if that said it all. "But I'm told these studies have been going on for several years. Programming of an individual is most successful when started at an early age. The challenge now is to obtain the same results on an adult whose ideals are already established."

Biedenbender changed his focus as a confused and apprehensive Colonel Hogan was wheeled into the room. Before Hogan realized what was happening he was surrounded by several orderlies and lifted from the gurney onto an examining table, strapped down and his hospital gown removed. Burkhalter and Biedenbender watched as Hogan was exposed and baseline blood pressure, pulse, and respirations were obtained.

"Everybody seems to know their jobs," Biedenbender remarked as he watched the scurry of activity taking place with very little chatter.

Shortly, a German voice echoed out, "All clear?" All heads were nodding. "Then we are ready to begin."

"What are you going to do to me?" Hogan demanded.

Biedenbender waited to see what kind of answer would be given, but no one acknowledged the question. He continued watching as Hogan scanned the room, undoubtedly trying to calm himself and make sense of his surroundings. Instead, he appeared to become more confused, and his rate of breathing increased, as he was approached by one of the scientists carrying a syringe.

"Gentlemen, a preliminary dose of three hundred milligrams. The time is exactly seven thirty-four a.m."

"The man still struggles to get away," Biedenbender commented under his breath.

"I can't say that I blame him," Burkhalter answered. "But then, I know what they have in store for him."

The restraints only allowed Hogan to writhe and offer minimal interference with the needle coming in contact with his skin. But even minimal interference would not be allowed. An orderly immediately stepped up to assist by pushing down on Hogan's still tender abdomen to quiet his struggling, which initiated a small outcry. Hogan froze in an attempt to lessen the pain, the drug was administered, and his rigid body went limp as the medicine entered him. Realizing he had lost this battle, he panted and tried to slow his excited breathing.

"Does the drug act that quickly? Biedenbender asked, surprised at the sudden cessation of resistance exhibited by their victim.

"I doubt it. I think Colonel Hogan has just realized there is nothing he can do." Burkhalter nodded, before smiling approvingly and adding, "A sensible decision."

Biedenbender echoed his understanding, "All hope has been abandoned. Good!"

Hogan's body soon began to twitch involuntarily, eliciting great interest from the scientists, who were closely observing, taking notes, and monitoring their subject's vital signs at ten-minute intervals. Both Generals watched as the scientists swarmed about their subject like bees around a hive.

It doesn't look like he has given up completely," Burkhalter whispered, as an orderly placed his hands on either side of Hogan's head to steady it while a light was shone into his eyes, one at a time and examined by one of the scientists.

The man performing the exam turned to have a short discussion with another lab coat wearing scientist. Shortly after this, Hogan's left arm and leg were unstrapped and he was rolled onto his side, where his body temperature was taken and recorded. The two Generals watched as Hogan closed his eyes in submission, before again being forced back into the restraints..

"They're very thorough!" Biedenbender commented with satisfaction.

"Naturally!" Burkhalter turned slightly to look at the new General. "You seem to be taking great pleasure in that fact," Burkhalter remarked.

Biedenbender's eyes had drifted back to the activity in front of him. "He has caused me considerable discomfort and humiliation in the past. It's fitting that he should be getting some in return."

Burkhalter smiled and nodded, before also turning back to study how their prisoner was coping. _I wonder if his eyes are closed because of the medicine or because he is shutting out some of the reality of his situation._

Pulse and respirations continued to be taken as the constant vigil progressed. Finally Hogan began to sweat profusely and his breathing quickened causing one of the scientists to approach and take a closer look. This seemed to be one of the turning points that were being watched for.

"_Die Zeit ist acht zweiundvierzig_," someone called out noting the time.

Biedenbender looked on with interest as Hogan paled and began to gag. This brought the white lab coats to the table to release Hogan's arm and leg and roll him to his side once again, allowing him to expel his stomach contents into a waiting bucket.

_Watching you like this I have mixed feelings about maintaining my anonymity. Part of me wants you to know that I have the upper hand and am somewhat responsible for your current predicament. However, I can't take full credit. I could not have done it without your help. If you had answered our questions you wouldn't be lying there now. It was your dogged determination to keep your mouth shut in the face of considerable force that placed you among the specimens in the alpha group for this testing. And the longer you hold out the more alpha you become, and the more necessary it will be to break you, in order to prove our process will work on anyone. I wonder…once they brainwash you, will there be any mind left to retrain? The only way you can win, Colonel Hogan, is to submit. Give in early and you may only lose half your mind. _

Hogan clung to the side of the exam table retching.

Biedenbender leaned toward Burkhalter and commented, "Mescaline seems to take over the entire body, not just the mind." Biedenbender rubbed his chin, fascinated with the scene unfolding before him. "I wonder if there is any permanent damage from the seizure activity."

Burkhalter's eyebrows arched as he, too, began to consider the possible side effects.

Gradually the gut-wrenching sickness that had overcome Hogan lessened and he slumped onto his back, exhausted as the cuffs were replaced on his wrist and ankle and the straps were once again pulled tight against his jerking body.

General Burkhalter studied Hogan, taking notice that, even though Hogan was clearly not in control of his body, there was still determination and…a trace of contempt in those eyes. Burkhalter filed all of this information away to be used later, after all of the tests had been run and he would have to decide what to do with the American Colonel.

Hogan quickly turned his head toward the man that had approached to take his blood pressure again, and looked at him as if he had never seen him before. The young American Colonel grinned and then blinking his eyes hard frowned and muttered, "I knew it was too good to be true."

A man with a clipboard stepped closer, "Was sagte er?"

"Er sagte, dass es zu gut war, um wahr zu sein", one of the nurses assigned to Hogan's care answered.

Burkhalter listened as the nurse approached and asked their alpha, "Yes, Colonel Hogan? What is too good to be true?"

Hogan stared at the woman's face, mesmerized, but did not answer.

The lead scientist stepped up and pulled the nurse to the side before speaking, "Sprechen Sie mit ihm, Ursula. Fragen Sie, was er sieht und hort, und was er fuhlt."

The nurse nodded and turned back to their test subject. "Herr Doctor wants to know what you are seeing, Colonel Hogan. What do you feel?"

Silence.

"Can he not talk?" Biedenbender whispered.

"He looks…awed." Burkhalter answered. "Like he is seeing something amazing. The hallucinations must be starting."

Biedenbender watched with renewed interest.

The nurse was still trying to get a response, when Hogan breathlessly muttered, "What are you doing to me?"

"He is at least aware that things are not as they should be. Interesting." Biedenbender watched in amazement as Hogan strained his head to see around him. He was obviously seeing more than anyone else in the room, but still he remained mute about what he was seeing.

The scientists in the room recognized this as another turning point and after a brief conference Hogan was unstrapped and allowed up. He was handed a pair of shorts that captivated his attention for several minutes. Finally Hogan rubbed his eyes and clumsily pulled the shorts on still apparently enthralled by their appearance. He changed his focus only when the nurse again beckoned to him. He walked to her without taking his eyes from her and joined her in a nonsensical conversation.

Biedenbender was taking it all in. The interaction of Hogan and the nurse, the interests of the scientists recording their information, and the intensity with which General Burkhalter seemed to be watching Hogan until suddenly his attention, too, zeroed in on the American flyer as he heard the name Goldilocks come from Hogan's gibberish.

"Goldilocks muss sein Flugzeug sein," one of the observers guessed.

"Ja," Biedenbender affirmed, before he realized he had spoken out.

The man who had asked the question looked at Biedenbender and nodded, before looking back at his clipboard and making a note.

After a while Hogan began to appear more lucid, at which time he was led back to the table, strapped down, and the process begun all over again, but this time with a larger dosage administered and with more violent outcomes.

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"Absolutely fascinating!" Biedenbender proclaimed at the end of the second round of Mescaline. An exhausted Hogan was wheeled from the room.

The scientist who was in charge of today's studies approached the two visiting Generals. "I trust you are finding this interesting. I've noticed your quiet conversations. We will take a break for lunch, while Dr. Weinzaphel pumps some nourishment into our alpha. He is using a lot of energy. We want him to be strong enough to continue for several more hours. Will you be returning for this afternoon's study?"

Burkhalter nodded, "I will, unfortunately General Biedenbender must return to Berlin."

"We have been honored, Herr General. There will be several more days of testing performed when we finish with this challenge. Please feel free to come back anytime."

Without further comment the white lab coat spun around and returned to the other scientists to compare notes.

"Come," Burkhalter nodded with a satisfied smirk on his face. "We will go into town and get some _nourishment_ ourselves before you must head back to Berlin. It's been a long morning and it will do us good to get away and relax."

Biedenbender nodded in agreement. "Ja I would enjoy that, and you can tell me about the prisoner of war camps that you oversee. I've heard some interesting stories."

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	10. Chapter Ten Control

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter Ten

Control

Biedenbender flinched when a sudden train whistle pierced his ears. He glanced at his watch as he entered the station. _6:30 a.m.__…I'm going to be a little late. They should have already begun the conditioning stage. Hogan should be feeling very cold by now, _Biedenbender thought. The aviation testing that Hogan was about to embark on would provide data, based on reactions and duration, of the influence that race and genetic inheritance plays on a man's timely ability to function in high altitudes. Smiling at the idea, he looked around for the driver of the staff car that was to meet him.

"Herr General!" The young soldier stopped abruptly in front of Biedenbender and saluted. "Heil Hitler!" Pausing only long enough to accept the returned salute, he continued, "The car is this way, Herr General."

"Ah danke." Biedenbender glanced at his watch once more and then stepped off, following his escort in a manner that caused his coat to flap partially open about his knees, as he swaggered through the train station. Biedenbender's new responsibilities did not allow him to spend as much time at Hohemark as he would like, but at least he was able to see the first day of mescaline testing and now the beginning of the experiments, designed to study thinking and motor skill function for aviation medicine. Testing designed to gain information to improve the supremacy of the Luftwaffe. _I find it quite satisfying that you are contributing to increasing the strength of our illustrious Third Reich by offering your body to science, Colonel Hogan. It's the least you can do after all the destruction and mayhem you rained down on us._

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Biedenbender slipped silently into the soundproof observation room and stepped next to General Burkhalter. "What did I miss?"

Opening his eyes a little wider, Burkhalter gave Biedenbender a surprised, yet expectant, look. "I had just about given up on you," Burkhalter announced, before turning back to the observation window. "Hogan has been sitting in the cold for the last two hours. Two of our scientists have just left to go into the room."

Biedenbender looked into the test room and watched as a shivering Colonel Hogan was chained to the railing. The frustrated American gave his hands a jerk, testing the chains holding them, and then quickly looked toward the door as the two scientists Burkhalter had mentioned entered the room. Hogan visibly tensed.

"It was explained to me that they were going to attach electrodes to Colonel Hogan that would be used to supply electric shock, stimulating himto cooperate," Burkhalter said. "Then they will return here, give verbal instructions for Hogan to carry out, and study the outcomes.

As Biedenbender watched, Hogan ducked in an effort to avoid the electrodes they were trying to attach to his head. This earned the American a strong backhand that apparently dazed him into submission. Or did it? Biedenbender observed that as Hogan sat quietly allowing the electrodes to be attached to his chest and back, his eyes were busily scanning the room. He moved uncomfortably and looked down only when his shorts were momentarily tugged aside to allow placement of electrodes on his groin. _What are you looking for, Colonel Hogan? A way out? Are you plotting a foolish escape attempt? Maybe you are looking for answers to what is about to happen? Or perhaps… _Biedenbender wondered …_you are still haunted by hallucinations from the mescaline and are not even aware of what is going on._

Biedenbender continued watching as Hogan momentarily closed his eyes, shook his head negatively, and heaved with what appeared to be a sigh. When Hogan's eyes were again opened there was a look of resignation. With chattering teeth he again looked down at the leads on his body, before looking up at the second scientist who appeared to be giving instructions. _No, you know exactly where you are. Are you finally losing hope, Colonel?_ Biedenbender announced his observation to Burkhalter."It seems the rigors of scientific research are wearing him down more than the Gestapo interrogations ever did!"

Looking back at Biedenbender, Burkhalter squinted his eyes and smirked, "I suspect his acceptance of his current predicament is due to the cumulative effect of all the abuse he has been subjected to since he was shot down." Burkhalter's face changed to a thoughtful frown, "Frankly, I'm surprised he has lasted this long. I wonder how much more he can take." The General looked back at the American who sat shivering in the cold test room, wearing only a scant pair of thin shorts. Burkhalter's genuine interest in the testing revealed itself in his next statement, "At any rate, we will soon see how Americans function in the freezing cold of high altitude flight."

Biedenbender peered through the glass at the scientist who was apparently giving instructions, while pointing at the faux cockpit of a German plane that Hogan was chained to. The General was surprised to see that Hogan was either commenting or asking a question. _What are you saying, Colonel? _Biedenbender wondered.

The scientist replied to his subject with a stern face and then pointed at the speaker in the corner of the room before leaving.

"It looks like our American Colonel had a question or two." Biedenbender folded his arms across his chest and looking at Burkhalter, added, "Considering he had just been disciplined with a backhand across the face for offering resistance, I would consider that a bold move." Biedenbender looked at the microphone sitting on the table in front of him. "There must be a way to turn the sound on so we can hear."

"Yes, I've heard he is talkative. He just doesn't say anything we want to hear!" Burkhalter answered.

"Ja," one of the two remaining scientists answered. "Our specimen has definitely not lost his voice. You will be able to hear into the room during the testing. The microphone will be turned on as soon as Doctor Heltz and Doctor Dannenberg return. Please refrain from conversation when Dr. Heltz is giving instructions to our test subject. We will be monitoring the time it takes for the brain to act on the verbal instructions that are given."

The door to the observation booth opened and the two missing scientists entered. "Welcome, you must be General Biedenbender. General Burkhalter has been expecting you." One of the white-coated doctors offered his hand.

"Danke, yes, I'm sorry I was late. The train was delayed for some reason known only to the engineer," Biendenbender explained with sarcasm as he took the offered hand.

"You haven't missed anything, General. I'm afraid up until now it has been rather boring. We've just been waiting for our subject's core temperature to begin cooling down. We want to observe how his thought processes are affected. I will be giving him verbal instructions to carry out. What we won't have is the stimulation of battle to urge him to respond. But the electrodes we have attached to his body will serve to motivate him. We will give him a jolt each time he pauses for more than six seconds with the force of the jolt being increased each time. This way we will simulate the fear of battle and be adding to the physical challenge that stress has on the body." Turning back to the other scientists he asked, "Are we ready to begin?"

Everyone affirmed their readiness and the panel in front of Hogan lit up. Dr. Heltz flicked on the microphone with his thumb and in a monotone voice began his instructions, "Start the engines."

Shortly, the hollow sound of metal clanking together spilled out of the speakers into the control room as Hogan reached toward the instrument panel with his chained arm. The fingers reached a toggle and flipped it to the _"Auf_" position, setting off a chain reaction inside the observation room as one scientist after another busily scribbled onto the chart he held in front of him. The scribbling continued as their test subject reached for the second toggle and switched it on.

Heltz looked at another one of the scientists who was sitting next to the temperature controls for the room. "You may begin to lower the temperature in the test room. Continue progressively lowering it by five degrees every 3 minutes." The man nodded, turned the dial and entered his note on the paper in front of him.

_You're performing well for us, Colonel. Someone should toss you a treat. _Biedenbender chuckled to himself.

"Bring your plane into a formation that reaches a height of ten thousand feet. You will have to bank to the right to get your aircraft in line with the others," Heltz instructed into the microphone.

They watched as Hogan scanned the panel, reached out for the throttle, and then apparently froze. Dr. Dannenberg, with his finger poised over a button, glanced between Hogan and the stopwatch he clutched in front of him. Suddenly Dannenberg thrust his finger down, sending a jolt through the wires attached to Hogan's body.

"Ahh!" Hogan gasped as his body stiffened. The sudden release of the button left Hogan panting and panicked.

"Bring your plane into a formation that reaches a height of ten thousand feet. You will have to bank to the right to get your aircraft in line with the others," Heltz repeated the instructions in the same monotone voice. All eyes were on the Allied pilot.

Hogan flexed his hand and once again reached out for the throttle, pulling back gently and maneuvering the controls as if to bank to the right.

Biedenbender watched with appreciation at the steady smoothness with which Hogan controlled the throttle that was artificially vibrating in his hand. _You have a gentle touch. Your fingers remain relaxed, caressing the stick, despite the tenseness of your situation. If this were in fact a real plane, you would be sensing your plane's response, as if she were part of you, allowing you to bond with the hum of the engines. I suspected as much. You become the bird you fly. _The cocky smirk faded from Biedenbender's face and was briefly replaced with respect. There was an intimacy between man and plane. Biedenbender knew he was right in this assumption. It was the same way he himself flew. He watched as Hogan forced himself to let go of the throttle and imagined the mixed feelings it must have offered the American. _I can sense how painful that must have been. It would be like holding a lover who would not or could not respond to your needs. Could not carry you from the Hell you find yourself in._

Hogan appeared to stare at nothing, which served to strengthen Biedenbender's presumptions. The drone of the next instruction pulled Biedenbender's attention back to the scientific study unfolding before him.

"You will prime the bombs and engage them in the bomb bay. Your target is ten miles ahead. When you reach your destination, you will be at twenty thousand feet."

The men watching were surprised to see the fiery eyes of their test subject shoot from the test panel to peer at them through the observation window before again frantically scanning the control board.

_Now there was a look of **defiance**,_ Biedenbender acquiesced.

Hogan reached for the throttle and pulled back slightly, while still scanning the control panel.

Biedenbender knew he was stalling and apparently so did the scientists conducting this experiment, because Hogan suddenly cried out, squeezing his eyes shut and arching away from the chair. His knuckles whitened as his fingers gripped the throttle, unable to let go. And then, all of a sudden the fire ripping through him stopped, and he sank back onto the hard seat, his muscles visibly contracting erratically. Hogan moaned, panted his breathing down to a slower pace, and attempted to calm himself.

"You will prime the bombs and engage them in the bomb bay. Your target is ten miles ahead. When you reach your destination, you will be at twenty thousand feet."

The scientists intently watched to see if the American would be able to continue. They observed the muscles in their subject's jaw harden as he clenched his chattering teeth, gathered his waning strength, and blinked to clear his vision, before leaning forward and again searching the control panel.

Heltz nodded, apparently surprised, and looked on with renewed interest as Hogan's body shivered in an attempt to generate some heat to keep going. Perspiration visibly shown on Hogan's forehead. "He has determination…this American." Though the first half of the sentence was said with some admiration, the last half was spat out with disgust.

Biedenbender understood Heltz's mixed feelings. The tenacity possessed by this man was high on the scale of desired outcomes…for Luftwaffe personnel. It was an end goal that eventually _all_ Germans would have this kind of determination bred into them. The fact that this American seemed to be naturally registering high in this attribute was not well received…unless…

"Do we have a background heritage check on our subject?" Heltz asked, into the room of scientists. Silence was his answer, and his face reddened. "I want one run!"

The American reached out for the switch resting underneath a small picture of a bomb, and with a hand trembling violently from the increasing coldness of the room, determinedly fought to throw it. As the switch snapped into position, the body connected to the arm recoiled with tension, waiting for another zap of electricity to charge out of the strategically placed electrodes.

The sounds of pens excitedly scratching on paper played around the small cubicle, before they paused and waited for the completion of the actions needed to carry out the last order. After a few seconds pause, their test subject grimaced against the pain of his freezing skin and forced his shaking arms and body to jockey the "plane" up to the required altitude.

There was brief hesitation before the pens again began to write, as each scientist chose his words carefully. These results would be seen by men of authority. Men who expected to see German Supremacy upheld and who had the power to act against those who wrote _erroneous _results.

Biedenbender observed the tension in the room in the quietness of its occupants. He decided to take this opportunity to perhaps temper the physical information being gathered by taking advantage of the obviously taxed mental state of their prisoner.

"Dr. Heltz, may I ask a question of our subject? In his confusion we may be able to get some answers that he has been withholding from us." Biedenbender was counting on Heltz's willingness to grasp at anything that might show some weakness in their specimen.

Heltz looked at Biedenbender for a moment before extending the microphone to him. "Certainly General, but be brief."

Biedenbender nodded, and drew the microphone to his lips. "Why was your squadron out during the day?"

Biedenbender was surprised to see the trembling, bewildered, American Colonel look up at the observation room. _You look, but you don't see. Do you hear? _Biedenbender repeated his question, "Why was your squadron out during the day, Hogan?"

Hogan's eyes reacted this time. Biedenbender knew the man chained to the rail between them understood the question. But still there was no answer. _Don't you fear the current that could again course through your body? _Biedenbender only waited a heartbeat before adding another question to Hogan's confusion. "How long will the daylight campaign last?"

Hogan shook his head no, and using his free hand worked to free his other, half frozen hand, from the throttle. His body trembled violently in the cold and his eyes watered, blurring his vision.

Heltz took back the microphone and hurried to throw out the next order while their subject was showing signs of being cognizant. "You will hone in on your target and release your load of bombs."

The reality of pain, associated with lack of action, had resulted in learned conditioning. It was a proven formula and taught most expertly. Hogan hearing the instructions struggled to act. He grabbed onto the throttle, jerking it back and forth as his body convulsed in the cold.

Heltz began to relax as he announced, "He is losing control of his body. He is no longer able to respond." But as these words escaped Heltz's mouth, a still-determined American Colonel took his last bit of strength and moved his other hand again to the controls.

The scientists, hardly believing what they were seeing, all stared at the man who was bent on not giving up.

Their victim's fingers quivered as they rested on a panel of lights and switches, the message being sent from the brain ordering them to move, unable to force the freezing muscles to respond. Hogan's breathing became fast and shallow, his hand fell from the controls, and his head dropped down on his chest.

The button releasing the torment on their test subject was again pressed. Hogan was briefly jolted back to consciousness and cried out in agony. Lifted off of his seat by the force of the electricity pumping through him, his muscles stopped their shivering and began to seize erratically, and the blueness of his skin deepened. Ten seconds later it was over. The current snapped off and Hogan's eyes closed, consciousness already gone. With his muscles still quivering, his body hung from the shackles attached to his wrists.

Stunned, Biedenbender swallowed, still staring at the man in the next room.

Burkhalter's voice broke his trance. "Hmm, interesting."

Clearing his throat Biedenbender answered, "Agreed." The final spectacle was more than even he had anticipated

There was movement and noise around the two Generals as the scientists in the room shoved their chairs back, causing them to squeak in protest. They looked at each other with relieved smiles. The American did not make it to the end of the test. At least _that_ was something good to report.

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	11. Chapter Eleven The Decision

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter 11

The Decision

The 109 swooped down on what was supposed to be an enemy B-17. "Rat tat tat tat tat, Rrrrrmmmm." The Allied plane wiggled in the air before its engines sputtered and the plane went belly-up spiraling into the dirt.

"My turn, my turn!" One boy quickly grabbed up the ill-fated B-17 and took off running across the park, the German Messerschmitt again in hot pursuit, destined to smite the enemy and send him plummeting once more into the ground.

Biedenbender smiled; he enjoyed being a hero. His victory over the American Colonel, thanks to the Propaganda Ministry, was played out daily in schoolyards and playgrounds across Germany. He suspected it wasn't just the exhilaration of the German people over a vanquished foe that was at the heart of the Propaganda Ministry's agenda. There had to be more. Biedenbender shook his head and laughed at himself. _I'm being paranoid. It probably means no more than that it is a way to keep German pride high._

General Biedenbender straightened and breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in the rich musky smells of fall, and his thoughts again drifted back to his defeated enemy.

Colonel Hogan was soon to be released to a Luft Stalag. The question was, which one?

_You're much too clever to put into just any prison. It must be inescapable! General Burkhalter has been studying you, watching how you cope with the testing you've been put through, judging your stamina…your rebellion…measuring your strengths and weaknesses. We wouldn't want you escaping and making your way back to __England__…or… to die trying! We've worked to hard to get you where you are, both physically and mentally. _

"Heinrich,"Rolf was quickly approaching, red faced and out of breath. Biedenbender turned in the direction of the summons.

"Where have you been?" Not waiting for a response Rolf added, "What are you doing? General Burkhalter's been looking for you!"

Biedenbender looked with increased interest at Rolf. "General Burkhalter has been looking for me?"

"Ja, we told him you had stepped out for lunch and were expected back soon. He has called three times in the last hour." Rolf stepped closer to Heinrich. "He even called and asked if you were with me. I don't mind telling you, General Burkhalter makes me nervous. He has been around long enough that he has a lot of influence all the way up and down the political ladder. I'm always afraid I'm going to say the wrong thing, or the right thing in the wrong way and _poof…_gone…and forgotten"

Biedenbender laughed good-naturedly at his friend. "Nonsense Rolf, you're looking at it all wrong. These are the kind of men you want to associate with, get close to, and if possible, be on a first name basis with. If you want to move up, you have to be in the right circles."

Rolf, blinked the stunned look off of his face. "I know, but…well…just watch yourself around him, Heinrich, that's all I'm saying."

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"High altitude testing, ability to function in freezing temperatures…oxygen deprivation…and sleep deprivation coupled with cognitive and physical exercise. Well they certainly ran him through the gamut. Did they learn anything they didn't already know?" Rolf tossed the report back onto the desk in front of Heinrich.

Biedenbender pulled his clasped fists away from his chin, "I don't know. They share the test notes but not their significance. That sort of ambiguity on its own merit causes speculation." Biedenbender leaned back in his chair. "Did you notice the date on the last report?"

Rolf looked questioningly at Heinrich and reached for the reports again.

"That's all right, don't bother. It was eighteen days ago. I checked: they've moved him on to the transition camp at Wetzlar."

"Two and a half weeks ago? And he is still there? Is that why General Burkhalter wants to meet with you? Doesn't he know what to do with our prize toy?" Rolf asked.

_I wonder if Rolf is right. Maybe Burkhalter wants to discuss Hogan's placement._ Biedenbender quickly discarded the idea. "I'm guessing the Luftwaffe is taking a last crack at getting him to talk before passing him on to a Luft Stalag, thinking he may have softened up a bit after his ordeal at Hohemark. Burkhalter probably wants to know what I know about his weaknesses." Biedenbender shook his head. "He won't talk. That is one thing I am sure of. He'd rather die. I knew that at Hohemark when he looked into the observation room at us. He was not, nor would he be, defeated. Dead, maybe, but not defeated."

There was a light tap on the office door, followed by the appearance of Biedenbender's secretary. "General Burkhalter is here, Herr General."

Rolf quickly stood and facing the door, bounded to attention, his arm raised in salute as his hills clicked with precision. "Heil Hitler!"

Burkhalter sauntered in with a slight smile on his face, a smile that Rolf always considered to be cold and deliberate. It was not a smile meant to put you at ease.

"General Burkhalter, please come in." Biedenbender stood and stepped around the desk. "I believe you know Oberst Schinner. We were just looking over Colonel Hogan's file."

Burkhalter glanced at Rolf and nonchalantly returned the salute. "Yes, we have met several times…on official business. You may stand at ease, Oberst Schinner."

"Danke, Herr General." Rolf relaxed only slightly and turned to Biedenbender. "If you have finished with me, General Biedenbender, I will go and take care of those reports for you." Rolf looked at Heinrich with pleading eyes, begging him not to make him stay.

Biedenbender nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "You are dismissed," Biedenbender granted. Rolf turned to leave and was suddenly stopped by his friend's next subterfuge-filled comment. "Have those _reports_ ready for me by the end of the day."

Rolf carried through with the show of superiority Heinrich was displaying for General Burkhalter with a snap to attention followed with a crisp salute and a "Jawohl!"

Burkhalter watched the door close, "Interesting man. I'm not sure what to make of him yet. He upholds the ideals of the Reich and seems to be quite efficient and capable…but…he always seems to be rushed and hurrying on to his next task." Burkhalter turned to look at Biedenbender. "You keep him extremely busy…maybe you should consider getting a second aide to help with the workload."

Biedenbender bit the inside of his cheek, to keep from laughing at the whole situation. If only Burkhalter knew it was his presence that caused the urgency in Rolf's departure! Keeping his composure, he answered, "You make a good observation, General Burkhalter, I will consider that." Waving his hand and gesturing toward the chair Rolf had vacated, Biedenbender offered, "Please General, have a seat."

Burkhalter sat back in the chair and extended his feet out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle, the leather of his boots creaking with the action. "I have reached some decisions regarding our Colonel Hogan."

Biedenbender leaned forward, his elbows on his desk. "You've decided where to send him?"

"The day before yesterday, if you had asked me that I would have given you an answer." Burkhalter was now deciding on a different approach. He was here, more or less, for a second opinion, or maybe it was just affirmation he wanted. "Colonel Hogan was moved to Wetzlar eighteen days ago. Each day, after morning roll call, he has been removed from the prison population and taken to a location more conducive to…_private_ conversation."

Biedenbender knew what was inferred. Hogan was removed so there would be no witnesses among the prisoner population about methods used on Colonel Hogan that could be considered to be outside of the terms of the Geneva Convention. "I was not told officially, but I guessed as much from the date of the last report of Colonel Hogan's testing from Hohemark."

Burkhalter nodded, sizing up the officer sitting across from him. The practice of reading a man's character was a trait not unique to General Burkhalter. Any officer above the rank of Captain had to posses this skill if he was to stay alive in Germany today. You had to know your enemies, but you had to know your friends even better.

"You are very observant, that is good." Burkhalter said approvingly and then frowned, "They got a little carried away with their interrogation a couple of days ago and as a result had to keep him isolated from the general prisoner population for a few days until he was able to walk a little straighter."

Biedenbender raised an eyebrow, "A little straighter?"

"Nothing serious, just a couple of cracked ribs," Burkhalter answered dismissively. "They obviously weren't making any progress and decided to increase their efforts. They pulled him from the prison population altogether and placed him in solitary confinement. That is where he was yesterday morning when I arrived at the transit camp to talk with Kommandant Zurbruck."

"You saw him yesterday morning?"

Burkhalter nodded, "I did. He is still impertinent. He refused to show proper military respect and salute me. Even after being urged by the Kommandant and the guard, he did not obey. So I upped the stakes, I wanted him to know it was not just a General that was interested in him, but that the Fuhrer also had his eye on him, and that we found his endurance under Luftwaffe and Gestapo interrogation most fascinating. Still, I could not let his lack of respect go unpunished, so I turned him back over to his interrogators and lengthened his stay by two days giving them a total of five days to try and get him to talk." Burkhalter smirked and amended his statement, "No; talking he does-- what I should say is give us useful information.

Burkhalter paused and then as an explanation said, "The scientists at Hohemark were right, our Colonel Hogan has a mouth on him. Although, I must admit, considering his circumstances, he controls his backtalk fairly well…most of the time." Another pause, "Well, let's say half the time. The other half of the time, judging from some of the transcripts I've read, his interrogators don't even realize they've been insulted," Burkhalter revealed, apparently amused.

Biedenbender leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I told you from the beginning, this man is a fox and he will bear close watching."

Burkhalter sobered. "About that…what do you know about what drives this man?"

"Duty!" Biedenbender answered immediately. "Duty. And, as I have come to learn after his capture, a strong conviction in his beliefs."

Burkhalter smiled, "I agree, and knowing that, what would keep him from following the duty of every officer to try and escape?"

Biedenbender shook his head negatively. "Nothing, it would be his duty to work with the other officers he's imprisoned with, to find a means of escape. There would be no stopping him from…" Biedenbender was staring at the Colt pistol enshrined on his office wall and envisioning the captured American plotting with his fellow officers, when he began to understand what the General was alluding to.

"You're going to put him in an enlisted man's camp!" Biedenbender's eyes widened.

Burkhalter smiled, "It has possibilities." Burkhalter was pleased with Biedenbender's understanding of what he was attempting to do.

"We shift where his duty lies," Biedenbender rubbed his chin thoughtfully

"The other side of the coin is, if he can't escape himself, will he take up the challenge of planning mass escapes of the men under his command. It would give him satisfaction to pull that off," Burkhalter concluded.

Biedenbender nodded, "Ja that would definitely be the Hogan touch." Biedenbender looked a little deeper into the psyche of the man he called his enemy and again agreed, "Ja, definitely." He was pulled from his thoughts as General Burkhalter continued.

"However, there is a Luftwaffe camp that has not had any successful escapes…up until now. Of course it is a fairly new camp and it could be that the prisoners have just not organized themselves yet, or do not have a leader." Burkhalter looked at Biedenbender, trying to read his thoughts on the matter.

"So a lot will be riding on the Kommandant's ability to prevent or recapture those attempting to escape under Colonel Hogan's direction," Biedenbender realized out loud.

Nodding, Burkhalter continued, "Putting Colonel Hogan there could just be giving them the leader they need. The alternative would be Colditz, and their attempted escape record does not fill me confidence either.

"I think your idea has merit, General Burkhalter."

"I am glad to hear you say that. We still have plans for Colonel Hogan. And I would not want to have to tell the Fuhrer that he has escaped. I'd rather shoot myself, and I'm not excited about that idea either." Recovering from that distasteful thought, he continued, "I have arranged to increase patrols in the woods surrounding the Camp for a while and have notified the local Gestapo that we will be holding a very dangerous prisoner there, and to be prepared to give assistance immediately if called. Should we be wrong in our assessment of his driving force, any escape attempts by the American Colonel will be stopped immediately."

_Should **we** be wrong! **Our **assessment! Rolf was right, I should have been more careful. I am now going to share in the decision to put Colonel Hogan at... _"What Stalag did you say this was?"

"I didn't." Burkhalter smiled his cold, deliberate smile, and Biedenbender felt anything _but_ at ease.

Biedenbender held Burkhalter's gaze, waiting for an answer.

"It is a Stalag near the town of Hammelburg. Stalag 13, its Kommandant is Oberst Wilhelm Klink."

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	12. Chapter Twelve The Encounter

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter 12

The Encounter

_I had to come. I had to see for myself how you handle the rigors of interrogation, before you're released to the humdrum existence of a POW camp and allowed to lick your wounds. If General Burkhalter is going to include me in this decision to send you to an enlisted man's camp, I want to know how big a risk you are. _

Biedenbender's thoughts were interrupted as he looked at the faces of the enemy that were staring at him as he walked with Zurbruck to the building housing the solitary cells and interrogation rooms

_It's__ one thing looking into one enemy face, but all of these eyes staring at you is…is…_

He looked back at them arrogantly, trying to mask how uncomfortable he felt.

"…unnerving, isn't it, General?"

"Huh?" Biedenbender answered in a daze before shaking the annoying effect off and falling back into proper military stance. Clearing his throat, he rephrased his response. "What did you say?"

"I said it's unnerving, isn't it?" Zurbruck nodded toward the prisoners. "Seeing all of these enemy faces looking at you at one time, some full of hate and anger, some just scared. I had only minimal contact with the enemy before I was assigned here. By that I mean I saw them only one or two at a time as I would fly past them attacking their planes. It took me a while to get used to being constantly surrounded by them.

Biedenbender stopped walking and scanned the tattered broken men before him. "Have any of these men given you useful information?"

"Yes…a few," Zurbruck answered softly as he stood next to Biedenbender looking at his prisoners. Those with visible and bandaged wounds were leaning against the buildings or each other for support. Others had wounds that could not be seen, minds that would never heal.

Biedenbender tore his gaze away from the prisoners and looked at Zurbruck, who was still staring at the men. "Are the ones that are talking the same ones that talked at the Dulag?"

"Ja, more often than not they are repeaters. There are a few who breakdown here, if they think their ordeal is starting over again. But generally, we don't spend a lot of time on interrogations unless specifically ordered to do so. We are not set up for long-term stays. The food rations we give are less than they will be once they reach their prison camps. And since the prisoners here are all recovering from either wounds, the shock of being shot down, interrogations, or as in Colonel Hogan's case, all three, they need nourishment to heal…to live. We would end up with more deaths if we kept them too long. Also, at the prison camps there are men who are, for the most part, recovered and can care for the new-comers and help them to survive." Zurbruck turned and again began walking toward their destination.

"I didn't know we were that concerned about their survival."

"We aren't, but the Red Cross keeps tabs. We have to supply them with the names of those who die. And," Zurbruck snorted, "…it's extra paper work."

"Tell me Kommandant, do you really expect to get anything out of Colonel Hogan?" Biedenbender asked.

Zurbruck smiled. "Not unless he becomes delirious, and in his babbling he lets something slip." Then looking at Biedenbender simply answered, "No."

_Well, Kommandant, you're not blind. Now, what do you know about escapes. _Biedenbender continued his questioning."Have you had any escape attempts from here?"

"Ha, I suppose so, if you want to call them that. There have been a few feeble attempts to go out with the garbage. I guess we have an advantage over the Luft Stalags. The short time the majority of the prisoners are here does not allow for any seriously planned attempts."

"Hmm, I suppose that's true, but of the men that do make the attempt, is there anything to make you suspect they will try?" Biedenbender asked, trying to judge if Hogan fit the profile.

"No General, if there were signs, there would be no attempts. We would stop them before hand."

"Of course you would." _No useful information learned there. _"Well, I guess we will all have to just stay on our guard won't we?"

"Jawohl, Herr General," Zurbruck answered, as they reached their destination. Zurbruck opened the door to the building housing the solitary cells and a slight smell of sweat, blood and other bodily excrements confronted them. Stepping back he offered, "After you, Herr General."

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The door opened on a room full of desks. A buzz of voices could be heard from the officers, who were compiling their reports, comparing information they obtained, or suggesting techniques to be tried. Zurbruck and Biedenbender's presence quickly pulled them to attention saluting and chanting, "Heil Hitler!"

"At ease gentlemen," Biedenbender ordered, returning the salutes. The reaction to his presence delighted him. Scanning the room, he asked, "Who is interrogating Colonel Hogan?"

"It's been a joint effort," Zurbruck answered. "They've all been taking a crack at him. He is never alone…unless we are waiting for him to revive." Turning to the officers still standing at their desks, he asked, "Who's with him now?"

"Major Albrecht, Herr Kommandant."

"He will be downstairs, Herr General," Zurbruck stated. "Our isolation cells are downstairs, as are the interrogation rooms. It keeps the prisoners in the _dark_ bothliterally and mentally. They don't know if its day or night. The only light they see is what we grant them, which can be a gift or a torment." Zurbruck led Biedenbender to the back of the room and the stairway leading down.

As they approached the stairs, Biedenbender took his kerchief from his pocket and placed it over his mouth and nose as a pungent odor snaked its way up from below. Grimacing, he began to make a remark when his eyes caught sight of a sign, written in English, prominently hanging over the stairwell, "S_wine_ Cellar". The interrogation officers were all standing, anxiously watching for the General's reaction.

Biedenbender smiled at the play on words. "Appropriately named…judging from the smell."

Laughter erupted.

Stepping off the bottom step, Biedenbender waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Gradually two corridors began to come into view. The hall to his right was lined with heavy metal doors. Each door contained a small five inch by five inch covered opening at eye level. The sides of the hallway sloped toward the middle where a large grate-covered drain ran down the length of the passage. The other hallway was similar, but there were fewer doors and they were spaced further apart.

It was quiet. Surprisingly quiet. _Those doors must be soundproof, _Biedenbender decided. Looking around he asked, "You keep no guards in the hall?"

Zurbruck shook his head. "A waste of staff." With a sweeping wave of his hand he added, "They're not going anywhere. Even if they managed to escape from their cell…and they can't…the only way out is the stairs leading to their interrogators."

Following Zurbruck down the second hall, Biedenbender lowered his kerchief and breathed in shallowly, testing the air. The initial shock had worn off and although the odor was still offensive, it was tolerable. He put his kerchief back in his pocket.

Shaking his head, Biedenbender asked, "Does it always smell this bad?"

"No. The cells, occupied or not, get hosed down once or twice a week, and of course when we are expecting a visit from the Red Cross." Zurbruck assured and then added, "It must be about cleaning time. If we had known you were coming, Herr General…"

"Tell me what kind of treatment Colonel Hogan has received," Biedenbender interrupted. He did not want to explain his impromptu arrival. He wasn't entirely sure of his reasons for this detour himself. He had originally told himself it was concern for his implication in Hogan's placement, but now he admitted that was only part of it. _You supply a strange fascination to me, Colonel Hogan. Maybe it's your steadfast determination and ability to keep your secrets…or…perhaps it's your annoying ability to stay sane and pompous after all we have put you through. _

Stopping in front of a door the Kommandant turned and answered. "As I said earlier, I don't expect to get any information from him. But he angered General Burkhalter and the General lengthened his stay, while turning him back over to us to continue the interrogations."

"So I heard," Biedenbender nodded and rubbed his chin. "He picked the wrong person to be disrespectful to. We both know he was turned over to the interrogators more for discipline than interrogation. General Burkhalter wanted to teach him a lesson. He demands respect…and he will get it. Now, tell me-- how are you teaching it to him?"

"The Luftwaffe is not the Gestapo. We use standard techniques here."

"Yes, I know that, but what kind of treatment has he endured?" Biedenbender asked again pointedly looking Zurbruck in the eye. _If I am to know the measure of this man, I need to know what he has faced. General Burkhalter will be here later today to take him to Stalag 13. And before he goes, I must know that he will stay there. _

Zurbruck straightened with the intensity in which the question was asked. "Colonel Hogan was first given the opportunity to tell us what he knows, and then encouraged to do so. We first used water submersion. Followed by endurance techniques, where he was kept on his feet and ordered not to move…at all…for extended lengths of time. When he did, inevitably, move, he was struck. We played this _game _until he could no longer stand, then he was dragged down to his cell and allowed to recover…somewhat. During all of this he has only been given small amounts of water and a meager amount of food."

"And what is your opinion of the effect this is having on him?" Biedenbender asked.

Zurbruck thought for a moment, "You are correct, Herr General, no one, not even General Burkhalter expects to get any information from him. The real issue, at this point, has been his insolence. I know this doesn't sound like much, but he has quit correcting us when we don't acknowledge his rank."

"You mean when you didn't address him as, _Colonel_ Hogan he corrected you?" Biedenbender asked incredulously, not hiding his mirth.

"Jawohl, Herr General. It took us days to wear that impertinence out of him."

_I wonder if you have yet, Kommandant. He may just be conserving his strength, picking his battles. I seriously doubt that once he regains his strength you will find you have broken him of demanding the respect due his rank. You are a devil, Colonel Hogan. Even now you are manipulating these officers into thinking you have succumbed to their tactics. But I know you, and I will not be as easily fooled. _

"We believe he is beginning to understand that to get respect he has to give it. So we are increasing our efforts." Zurbruck paused before continuing, "Now, if Major Albrecht is sticking with his methods, He is probably…" Zurbruck reached for the knob, "…well, it is easier to show you."

An echo bounced off the concrete walls of the hallway as the latch disengaged and merged with the high pitched squeal of the door hinges. Biedenbender tensed with anticipation; _Here__ I come Colonel Hogan, ready or not!_


	13. Chapter Thirteen I'll Be Watching You

The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to CBS and was a Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

Chapter 13

I'll Be Watching You

The door opened.

Whap! A hand pulled back into the darkness from the white, blinding light focused on the prisoner's eyes.

The glow from the hallway cut into the otherwise dark room. "Close that door!" a gruff voice ordered. The door closed and another voice spoke out.

"This is General--" Zurbruck began.

"Ah, let's just say I'm a General and I've come to see what kind of progress you are making," Biedenbender interrupted before he could be completely announced. His eyes fixed on a man secured to a chair in the middle of the room, who was futilely attempting to keep the light aimed at his face from reaching his eyes. At first this man appeared lax and semiconscious but as the General spoke the prisoner's body tensed and he now appeared to be aware that someone else had entered the chamber.

"I am sorry, Herr General, I did not realize…" Major Albrecht sputtered.

Biedenbender waved off the apology and stepped up behind his target. Bending closer, he said, "My, Colonel Hogan, it certainly does stink in here."

Hogan, jerked as the warm breath accompanying the words reached his ear. Struggling against the restraint holding his head, he reflexively tried to turn toward the voice, to no avail.

"I noticed that…" Hogan paused as if to weigh the wisdom of what he was about to say, "…as soon as you entered the room!" Hogan spat out the last of the sentence and immediately braced for the impact.

Biedenbender, surprised at the impetus of the comeback, pulled back and, staying behind the glaring light, circled the perimeter, carefully staying invisible to his prey.

The Major's hand struck again, with lightning speed. "You _will_ show respect!"

Kommandant Zurbruck, finding it hard to believe what he had just heard, shook his head in resignation and mocked, "This man's epitaph will read, 'Here lies Colonel Hogan…he talked himself to death'."

Biedenbender's suspicions were confirmed. _I assumed as much, Colonel Hogan. You're not learning a thing except how to manipulate the enemy. _

"Major Albrecht, you're going about this all wrong," Biedenbender cautioned, as he tormented his prisoner. "I know this man! Colonel Hogan will not obey you because you inflict pain on him…will you, Colonel?"

Hogan frowned keeping his eyes closed against the searing light as he listened, appearing to not fully understand what was happening.

Going full circle, Biedenbender came up behind Hogan and placed his hands on Hogan's bare, sweaty, shoulders, catching the American pilot by surprise.

"Ugh," Hogan breathed in sharply.

Biedenbender smirked as he pressed down harder into skin and muscles already abused by the interrogators.

"This man has total disregard for his own safety."

Hogan, filled with anger and not knowing what to expect, stiffened under Biedenbender's grip. Biedenbender smiled approvingly.

"Oh, Colonel Hogan…" Biedenbender began, "…you are tense. Relax; you have nothing to fear from _us_." The General's fingers roughly massaged Hogan's stiff, battered shoulders. "You have brought all of this pain and suffering down on yourself."

Hogan bit his lip to keep from crying out, perspiration ran down his face. He sagged and then, using strength he didn't have, he pushed back against the menacing hands.

Offering his insights to the others in the room, Biedenbender explained. "No, Major Albrecht, Colonel Hogan has calloused himself to his own discomfort. It is the pain inflicted on others…those he is responsible for, cares about, and owes protection to that causes his agony. Am I not right, Colonel Hogan?" Biedenbender stopped massaging Hogan's shoulders and slid his hands to the man's upper arms. "Like the men you failed, as a pilot and leader over Hamburg." Biedenbender waited for the implication to hit.

And it did. A shudder emanated from Hogan's shoulders. Biedenbender drank it in hungrily, allowing it to flow through his hands and up his arms, as his own body fully experienced and appreciated the agony of the American. The General locked the moment into his memory. He would not forget this. He had felt his enemy tremble and it was justice…justice for all the pain that had been rained down on the people of Germany.

Patting Hogan's shoulders, Biedenbender released his embrace. _Good. Now, let's throw a little salt on that wound. _"That's all right, Colonel: grieve for the men whose lives you lost.—It is the least you can do!"

Hogan's pain turned to anger, his jaw tightened and his nostrils flared, as fisted arms strained against the restraints. But he remained silent. After all…it was true.

Biedenbender, in the shadows, again circled to the front of Hogan. "You have nothing to say, Colonel Hogan? Not even a thank-you to us for saving your life."

Hogan frowned "I…I…remember dropping our bombs…" Hogan's answered arrogantly and then his voice trailed off, as he fought not to remember, but to forget.

"There is much more to remember, Colonel Hogan," Biedenbender watched as Hogan squeezed his eyes tighter. "You've been with us for almost four months."

_Four months? _Hogan's face hardened. "Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, United States…" _Four months! _Pausing to take in a slow steady breath, he continued, "United States Army Air Corp. Serial number 0876707."

Biedenbender's eyebrows arched. _The recitation of "name, rank, and serial number" is as much for your benefit as it is ours. It gives you something to say without having to think about the death of your plane…and your men. But will being a senior POW officer, responsible for hundreds of men, be enough to keep you off balance? My neck is on the line here, thanks to General Burkhalter including me in the decision to send you to an enlisted man's camp. You must believe any attempted escape would not be worth the cost of its failure._

"You may soon be released to a Luft Stalag, Colonel Hogan, where you will sit out the remainder of the war."

_Yes, please God…yes. _Hogan's face relaxed slightly as he anticipated this long-awaited promise.

"Maybe," Biedenbender added, watching the doubt reach Hogan.

Hogan's breathing quickened, as the threads of hope he clung to became tenuous.

"Or…General Burkhalter may become annoyed enough to order your execution if you persist in not giving us any information." Biedenbender stared silently down on his enemy.

Hogan held his breath for an instant and then frowned. "You're not…General Burkhalter?" All voices were beginning to sound alike, but if not Burkhalter…who?

Biedenbender smiled

"I wouldn't try to escape…" Circling to Hogan's right and, staying in the darkness, Biedenbender lowered his voice, "…we would have to shoot you!"

Hogan tried to open his eyes against the blinding light but shut them immediately as his eyes began to water, spilling a tear shamelessly down his cheek.

Biedenbender watched amused.

Hogan clenched his teeth, against the anger building inside of him. With fire in his voice, he warned, "You'd better not miss!"

_Crack! - _Punishment came _hard_ and swift with a black gloved backhand.

"_Ugh!"_

The throbbing immediately followed as the restraint holding his head forced his cheek to absorb the full force of the blow.

"Threats?" Biedenbender laughed out loud, "Ah, Colonel Hogan, you do have some spirit left."

"Who are you?" Hogan grimaced as his jaw burned with the effort to speak. "What do you want from me? It's not answers," he panted with anticipation as he again braced for the blow.

"Halt!" Biedenbender ordered, stopping the downswing of the punishing hand before it made contact with the bruised and swollen cheek. _I have what I want, Colonel Hogan. You!_

Major Albrecht lowered his arm. "I apologize for this display of disrespect, Herr General."

Hogan relaxed, realizing the blow he anticipated was not coming, at least not now.

Reaching out from the blackness, and running the back of his hand down Hogan's swollen right cheek, Biedenbender continued, "Yes, Major, I'm afraid he has not learned his lesson yet. But I wouldn't feel too bad."

The muscles in Hogan's neck bulged in an attempted turn his head from his captor.

"After all," Biedenbender hissed, "he is from an inferior race and their learning capacity is limited."

"Jawohl, Herr General," Albrecht agreed. "But I will _continue_ to try!"

Biedenbender picked up the dog tags dangling from Hogan's neck, once again taking satisfaction in the name. "So, Colonel Hogan, that means you could make the same mistakes again, killing even more of your men!"

Biedenbender watched his enemy. The American was doing a good job of keeping his face blank but the beating of his heart was visible in his neck. And it was racing, as the doubt of his actions in the air over Hamburg ate at him.

Biedenbender wondered if the American's guilt was enough to keep him docile. _General Burkhalter is right, too many escape attempts have occurred at Colditz. And Rolf's suggestion of keeping you chained to a wall at Gestapo Headquarters will not fit into the Fuhrer's plans. Will you think twice before endangering the lives of the men under your command again? I agree…your imprisonment at Stalag 13 is our best and safest bet._

Biedenbender turned to leave. There was nothing to do now but wait…

Pausing at the door, he took one last look back. _Will you try anyway, Colonel Hogan? Will you devise some over-elaborate scheme to get you and possibly some of your men out of Germany?_ _Maybe… _Biedenbender rubbed his chin. …_but I will see it coming. _Bidenbender smiled. _Have no doubt about that. I know you, Colonel Hogan, and I'll be watching you_

Biedenbender stepped out into the hallway and let out a sigh.

"I see you are pleased," Zurbruck remarked, as the General took one last look at their prisoner. "Victory is indeed, sweet, Herr General!"

Biedenbender, looked at the Kommandant, nodded and smiled broadly. "It is true what they say, 'He who laughs last, laughs best'."

A sharp sudden outflow of breath, swallowed as quickly as it had made its escape, came from the direction of the prisoner. _A sob?_ Biedenbender wondered.

Looking back, the interrogators bright tortuous light revealed an American Colonel, hands balled into fists, head tightly held in restraints, whose eyes were closed against the brightness of the light…and the darkness of his future.

The End.

(of the challenge, for the end of the story see series episode 33, "Hogan Gives A Birthday Party")

Thanks for reading!


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